


Broken Down Universe

by dragonbabezee



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, F/M, Gen, Romance, Science Fiction, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-05-27
Packaged: 2017-12-22 14:21:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 45
Words: 218,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/914223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonbabezee/pseuds/dragonbabezee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Future Bulma gets herself and Trunks in a lot of trouble when she 'borrows' a time machine from a visiting time traveller. Her world is turned on it's head when the identity of the time traveller is revealed. It starts slow, but then comes a twist and it hits 'like crack' I'm told. Contains time travel, sci-fi, romance and action! Rated M for language and sexual content.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Disaster

**Author's Note:**

> Author note: Let me outline what you're in for if you embark on this tale. It's set in the Mirai timeline (mostly) and although it starts off a bit grim, this a tale has a bit of something for everyone - feels and funnies, sci-fi and smut, drama and action. I know a lot of people read the first chapter and go no further, but those that do tend to be hooked. If you do start reading it and give up though, I'd still be interested to hear about it and know why (for next time). Chuck it in a review, or PM me if you're shy.
> 
> Yes, Vegeta is a major character in this story, although you wouldn't know by the first few chapters. Give it a chance.
> 
> This was originally posted on fanfiction.net, and still is, but I've posted here just in case. I've left most of the author notes unchanged because I find them interesting from a personal history point of view, although some of them won't make sense now perhaps, when the story is posted cold, months after it was finished.

Bulma flipped up the welding mask and examined the join she just made. Straight enough, neat enough. Strong enough? According to her calculations, yes, and then some, but she'd never built a time machine before. It was the stuff inside that really counted though. She still didn't know how she was going to safely test the time drive.

A discreet electronic beeping came from the proximity alarm she had jimmied up in the underground capsule house. She calmly, but quickly, swapped her welding torch and mask for the home-made energy blaster on the bench and hurried up the tunnel. Making her way through the ruined building above their refuge, she took a place in the shadows where she could see through a crack in the wall. The blaster was useless against the androids. Gohan had tried it on them, and it barely slowed them down. If it was the androids who'd set off the proximity alarm, she would most likely be dead in a few minutes, but they weren't the only danger in this torn up world – desperate people could do desperate things in the effort to stay alive.

She heard the rush of a body flying in fast, and then, with an impact that she felt shake the ground under her, a blond, glowing man landed, throwing up a cloud of dust. Gohan! And so where was Trunks? She ran outside, towards the figure. He was down on one knee, head bowed, but where was his orange gi? He was wearing Trunk's grey and purple sweats. 'Gohan?' she cried out, alarmed.

He lifted his face and confusion stopped her in her tracks. It wasn't Gohan at all. The contorted, tear streaked face was her own son's, but made unfamiliar by the blonde eyebrows and hair, and bright aqua eyes. He was a super Saiyan! Her own flesh and blood had become one of those god-like warriors. She gaped.

'He's gone Mom!' he said in a cracking voice.

Bulma couldn't leap frog her brain past the sight of his transformation. 'Who?' she asked.

'Gohan! They killed him! He sacrificed himself to save me!' He smashed his fist into the ground, cracking it and sending Bulma staggering from the ripple that ran through the earth, then he screamed; a terrible sound of a soul torn up by pain and shame.

Bulma stared at her son while the reluctant understanding of what he was saying to her rolled over her.

'No, not Gohan!'

She found herself on her knees in the dirt. Gohan, her friend, gone! The edges of her vision dimmed and for a few seconds she struggled to breath in, as if she'd forgotten how to.

Oh god, it couldn't have happened! How could it? And yet his death should not be surprising to her – she had been expecting it and dreading it for years. The only thing she feared more than his death was her son's. Gohan was her last link to the life she had lived before the androids appeared and took it all away; her companion and saviour in more scrapes than she could count; a father figure to Trunks; a second son to her; her listening ear and drinking buddy when the memories and the despair grew too powerful to suffer alone; he was her last link to Goku, and above all, he was the best hope for the people of the Earth to be delivered from the scourge of the androids.

But now he was gone.

She thought she had expected it, but now she realised that she hadn't believed that it would happen, just as she had never believed that Goku could die until the heart virus took him, or her parents could die when they insisted on staying in the Capsule compound after the androids arrived. Nor the death of Piccolo, and with him, Kami and Shenron, the dragon whose wishes made death a two-way door.

Trunks's screams cut through her own thoughts, and she staggered up and towards him, obeying her maternal urge to protect her child from pain. She hesitated before she wrapped her arms around him – golden flames of chi licked over his skin and the dust danced in a circle around him – when she did he was hot to the touch, but not burning. He was stiff in her arms, muscles rigid. She looked down at his locked fists and saw that his hands were bleeding – he must've pushed through the skin with his own fingernails.

'Trunks! I know, I know!' She struggled to find something to comfort and calm him, but she really couldn't. 'Oh God, Gohan!'

Trunks was gasping now, raggedly. Bulma felt she could hardly breath herself, her throat was tight to choking from the sobs that were stuck inside her. She knew the only way to get rid of them was to let them out, and so she did. The gold light around Trunks evaporated, and he slumped against his mother, giving way to sobs too. They clung to each other.

With the crushing weight of grief continuing to grow, a familiar panic came to her; she didn't know how she would live through this loss. The rational part of her knew that she would because she had lived through all the other loses, but right now it didn't seem possible.

'I'm sorry Trunks,' she said into his lavender hair. She was sorry that he would have to suffer this pain when he was still only fourteen. Like all the humans that spent their lives hiding from the androids, he had known people that died, but no-one who had meant as much to him as Gohan. Not Gohan. What were they to do now?

It seemed like an age before the painful crying subsided into tearful weeping. Bulma couldn't keep her mind from wandering down a painful memory lane that took her past all her lost friends and lovers. If this were the old days they'd be flying back to the capsule compound by now for some sympathy and home baking from her Mom and ingenious technical support from her Dad, planning how they were going to cheat death for their friends yet again. Yamcha would be shaken and angry, Tien would be swearing revenge, Chau-Tsu would be voicing every obvious thought that had already occurred to everyone else, Goku would be full of hope and optimism and Krillin would be cheering them up, making them laugh in spite of their shock. Krillin was who she missed the most at times like this.

Her mind returned to the dragonballs. They had all turned to useless stone when the androids killed Piccolo, taking Kami with him. It shouldn't have taken her by surprise, as it had happened once before. She worried again if she should be making a space ship instead of a time machine. If they could find New Namek maybe the Namek would allow them to use their dragonballs to turn back time? Or defeat the androids? Bring the dead back to life? But the space ships were her father's design, based off Kami's Namek craft, and the navigation system was lifted entirely from the Saiyan space pods, and none of those pods or ships survived. She was semi-confident that she could build her own design herself, but she was damned sure that she couldn't create a navigation system from thin air. Plus she didn't have the materials. The time machine she had designed was much smaller, with a lot less components, and even then it had taken years to find, pilfer and salvage what she needed. No, there would be no dragonballs, and the dead would remain dead.

Would Gohan be with them all now in the afterlife? She imagined him being welcomed into the next dimension by Goku and all the Z-fighters, and felt an unexpected stab of jealousy.

Trunks stirred in her arms. 'He died because of me,' he said into her shoulder, his voice tangling up into tears again.

Bulma wasn't sure she wanted to know, but asked anyway. 'What happened?'

'He sensed the Androids killing people, and I followed him. I thought- I thought I was ready to fight them, that we could defeat them for good if we teamed up.'

'Because you're a, a super Saiyan now?'

Trunks shook his head, his fist twisting the sleeve of her skivvy angrily, growling in rage and frustration, which made him sound so much like his father, that she jumped in fright.

'No! That happened afterwards, when it was too late already! When I got out there all I did was get in his way. I should have listened to him when he said that I wasn't ready! He had to save me. I got knocked out, and when I came too he was dead. I'm sorry Mom, I'm so sorry!'

'Oh Trunks!' She _was_ angry, but she couldn't tell him that. His boyish over-estimation had gotten the Earth's best warrior killed. Gohan had never been like that – if anything he sometimes under estimated his abilities. Trunks's eagerness to fight, and getting in over his head was more like his father, and that was something she'd always been worried about, even before Gohan started training him. Although, if she was totally honest with herself, he might have got some of that headstrong character from her too.

'Where is he, Trunks?'

He looked up at her, with his handsome boy's features smeared with dirt and tears and blood, and his chin wobbled. He took a deep breath and swallowed before answering.

'I left him in an old cabin outside of Pinktown. I thought I should take him to Paozu Mountian.'

Bulma nodded. 'Paozu Mountain, that's exactly right.'

'Will you help me bury him Mom?'

She made a noise, halfway between a laugh and a cry. "Of course Trunks! And we'll tell the Resistance groups, they'll want to be there too to say goodbye to someone who's done so much for all of them.'

Trunks brows came together at those words, and his face filled with anxiety.

'Mom,' whispered Trunks. 'I'm scared.'

She didn't bother to ask why. She was sacred too.

'I'm not strong enough to fight the androids,' he added.

Bulma felt a strange hollow feeling inside her, and even the ground felt hollow, like a thin crust that might drop away from under her. Of course – now Gohan was dead, fourteen year old Trunks was the strongest fighter in the resistance. She didn't want it to happen, but he would have to fight the androids sooner or later, and alone. They'd be looking for him.

'Trunks,' she said, taking him by both shoulders and leaning down so that she could look him in the eyes. 'Not yet. You're not strong enough _yet!_ But you will be! In the meantime, we've got to hide, we've got to stay low. One day you will be strong enough, and you'll destroy them. You're the son of the Prince of all Saiyans, a born warrior. You're all that and you're _clever_ too.'

She fixed his tear-streaked face with a look of absolute conviction. She believed what she said – she had to. Trunks's face relaxed slightly, reassured by his mother's confidence.

'Yeah, well maybe I got that from my mother's side,' he said, the edge of his mouth lifting a little.

How would Trunks gain the strength and skill that he needed to though? Without anyone of similar power to train with? She was no martial artist, but she'd hung around with them most of her life, so she knew that one didn't become a world beater by practicing alone. Even Vegeta had had the gravity chamber to pit himself against. Oh, _why_ hadn't she made a space ship? It would have been perfect – send Trunks into space to train safely in high gravity. The time machine was a noble idea, but it was for helping others, not themselves, and it wasn't going to help them out of this predicament. Or was it? She was struck by a perfect plan. She would send Trunks into the past to be trained by the other Z warrirors out of harm's way. She smiled as her hope was rekindled.

'What is it?' asked Trunks, nearly smiling in response. Then he froze. 'Listen!'

Very, very faintly, she heard the discreet digital beeps of the proximity alarm.

'Oh no!'

'They must have followed me!' In one movement Trunks snatched her up and they were in the air.

'The time machine!' she said, panicking at the thought of leaving it behind. She wished she hadn't though, as Trunks immediately whirled around.

'Of course! We've got to take it!'

'No, no Trunks, forget it, we don't have time!' she said as they touched down outside the ruined office block again.

He dropped her and ran towards the tunnel leading down to the capsule house door, yelling over his shoulder 'But it'll only take a few seconds!'

'Then just grab the drive, it's the most important part!' She looked back over her shoulder and leapt in fright – the two figures were already visible in the sky. 'Trunks!' she screamed, 'they're here!' She ran to the tunnel entrance and collided with her son coming back up.

'I've got it!' He held up the heavy dark metal box that housed Bulma's most radical invention yet – the time warp drive.

'We can't go out the front,' she whispered, 'they're already here.'

Trunk's eyes went round with fear. She could tell he was mortally terrified of meeting them again, as was she. They ran as quietly as they could through the broken dividing walls of their above-ground refuge. It was an old office block, with it's lower floors buried deep in silt from a massive flood that androids caused years ago when they destroyed the dam upriver from Salmon Town. The capsule house they lived in was buried in what used to be the atrium and reception area.

They had barely got round the corner though when Bulma heard a young man's voice from the front of the building. It was relaxed, and playful, and cruel.

'Do you suppose the little mousy is hiding in here? Little mousy?'

Bulma and Trunks froze in place as 17's voice rang around the empty spaces of the building.

'Come out you little purple-haired punk, we've got a game we'd like to play with you!'

Bulma turned her head towards the voice, and realised she could see the speaker through a penny sized hole in the crumbling wall. She hoped to Kami he couldn't see her. He was a slim youth, with long dark hair and a red bandanna round his neck. He certainly looked not much older than seventeen, and his face was beautiful and serious, like a male catwalk model's. When he turned away they started creeping again, bent low, but were immediately brought up short, by a second voice, this one much closer and on the other side of them.

'I really don't know why you care so much,' it said. This one was female, bored and petulant. 18 must have come into the building from the other side. Trunks looked wildly at his mother, and Bulma looked around for other ways out of the building. There were only small windows on the sides of the building, which is where they were trapped now, and none near them. There was one a floor up, if they could get there. She pointed up.

'Don't you think this is fun? First Gohan and then his little friend?' asked 17.

'No, this is getting boring. We're just flying around now, guessing where he might be. I wanted to do my nails this afternoon, but now I can't because you blew up the cosmetic store. That was the last intact cosmetic store I've seen in a year.'

'Like that _wouldn't_ have been boring. If we hadn't stopped in Pinktown for you to look at nail polish we wouldn't have lost his trail, would we?'

'You're so selfish you know. We never do what _I_ want to do.'

'Blah, blah, blah. You seemed to be having fun drop-kicking Gohan this morning, correct me if I'm wrong.'

'Huh!' she snorted, coming at last into view, leaping down onto the dirt floor of the atrium.

'Well, what have we here?' said 17, perking up. 'A proper little hiding hole!'

Bulma realised with a sinking heart that they had found the buried capsule house.

'Come out with your hands up!' said 17's mocking voice. Then there was a sudden, loud but muffled whumping sound accompanied by the shrieking of metal being torn apart.

Bulma wrapped her arms around Trunks's neck and whispered 'Go now!' into his ear. Trunks gathered her up and flew the short length of the corridor and through the ragged hole in the ceiling. Coming upon the window they were dismayed to see the glass was still intact.

'What did you do that for?' they heard 17's voice come from below. 'That wasn't at all sporting.'

'You blew up my fun, so I blew up yours.'

There was another small explosion, probably something from the laboratory overheating – the welding cylinder? When the noise came Trunks made a decision, and kicked out the window in two swift movements, and darted through. Before they were quite clear of the building Bulma caught 18's suddenly interested voice:

'What was that?'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who start wondering when Vegeta will get some actual screen time...keep reading! Chapter 3 I swear, you'll get to meet the jerk himself! First I decided it was necessary to examine Future Bulma's world. Also, I've tried to write with with American readers in mind, but you may notice me falling back on colloquialisms and spelling from the old empire, so sorry if that's confusing, but it can't be helped. I'm not actually American.


	2. Escape

Bulma was left breathless by the speed of Trunks's acceleration. His arm around her back felt like an iron bar, almost crushing her, pulling her one way, while the weight of the air they were travelling through pulled the other way at her dangling legs.

She couldn't see behind them to know if the androids were following, but Trunks kept up his furious pace for minutes. She became aware that the rumbling noise she could hear was Trunks repeating to himself over and over, 'No, no, no, no, no…'

'Trrr-ks!' she managed to gasp out through clenched teeth.

'What is it Mom?' he said, eyes wild and darting to look at her.

'Can't…breathe!'

'Sorry!'

'Are…they…behind?'

'I don't know.' He looked over his shoulder. 'I can't see them.' He slowed, and Bulma sagged in his arm, legs trailing downwards, and Trunks made a face of alarm at the red face of his mother. 'I'll take you down!'

They touched down in scrubby forest, and Bulma staggered about on her feet trying to catch her breath. 'Let me on your back,' she said. 'We've got to keep going.'

'Where to?' asked Trunks. His eyes were so wide, she wondered if she looked as scared as he did.

'Roshi's.' She wrapped an arm around his neck and bunny hopped onto his back. 'Go!'

Trunks took off slowly, concerned that she wouldn't be able to hang on but as soon as they cleared the trees he flattened out and sped up. Despite the speed she could now look around, which she did.

'TRUNKS! They're behind us!'

17 and 18 were at an apparent stop on the far side of the clearing they'd just left, looking surprised. Bulma nearly lost her grip as Trunks put on a brutal burst of speed. How fast was Trunks? Could he outrun androids?

She looked again and already 17 was much closer, only twenty yards or so behind. She couldn't see 18. She flattened herself on Trunks back, trying to make herself as aero dynamic as possible and screamed in his ear 'Faster!'

Trunks gave a cry of alarm at something she couldn't see, and suddenly he veered upwards, losing speed in the process.

'What?' cried Bulma, but before she could find out she felt something slip under her belt at her back, and suddenly she was being pulled upwards and backwards. She wrapped her legs around Trunks's waist and managed to hang on for a second more before she was pulled free, dangling ass up in the air from 17's hand. Trunk's head snapped back, but it wasn't to see her – she could now see 18 below him and the raised fist she'd just struck him with. Trunks barely paused in recovery, then leapt forward in attack. 18 grinned and blocked his punches and kicks with ease.

'What do we have here?' asked 17, turning her towards him, away from the fight.

'None of your god-damned business!' replied Bulma, suddenly enraged that not only was she going to be killed by this atrocity, but she was going to have to converse with it first.

'You're too old to be his girlfriend. Maybe his sister? No, too old still.'

'What's it to you?' She heard a far-below shattering of rock, and hoped that it was 18's face that was crushed into it and not Trunks's.

He ignored her, grabbing her by the lapels of her jacket with his free hand and bringing her face closer to his. She could see into the androids eyes, and was for a second transfixed by the artistry of its construction – they were so real, so beautiful, and yet, just a tiny bit dead. What was it? Not moist enough? No soul? Certainly there was no compassion in them.

'Are you Gohan's girl?'

The question caught her so by surprise that she blushed and snapped 'No!' Late night musings returned to her in a flash, and she was ashamed to be reminded of her dirty-old-lady thoughts on the day of Gohan's death. _I'm not much better than Master Roshi_ , she thought to herself. 'What's with the questions?' she demanded.

'I want to know who our little purple-haired friend is,' said 17, smiling. 'Maybe you can tell me. It seems odd that he should appear on the day that we retired our old playmate.'

'His name is Trunks!' she shouted defiantly. 'He's my _son_ and he's going to destroy you!'

17 laughed. 'Oh really?' He twisted the wrist that he held her in until she faced the fight that was still raging between Trunks and 18. The two of them moved so fast that their movements were a blur to Bulma, but it seemed like Trunks was moving faster, or at least more, and more frantically. 18 was holding him off well. She dodged a punch that would have been massive, and in the fraction of a second that Trunks's momentum was carrying him off past her, she pirouetted and lashed out with her leg, getting him solidly in the kidneys with a soft hollow sound that Bulma heard from where she hung thirty metres away.

'TRUNKS!' Irrationally she struggled to free herself from 17's grasp and run to help her son, even though she was dangling far above a forest. Trunks plummeted towards the ground, his body limp.

'That was too easy,' complained 18 as she floated towards them.

Bulma screamed, a wordless scream of fury and grief that tore at her throat, and far below, Trunks opened his eyes and stopped his decent. Relief flooded though her, and now she knew for sure – the worst thing that could happen to her would be for Trunks to die. Nothing was that bad.

'Trunks, go! Leave me!' she yelled. He was too far below for her to see his expression, but he definitely wasn't leaving. With a shock she realised that he was still grasping the time warp drive under one arm. That had to be slowing him down and getting in the way, surely? Why hadn't he dropped it?

Trunks let out his own cry, one of rage, and suddenly there was movement in the air all around them – a swirling vertex of air centred around Trunks, getting faster and faster. Bulma knew what was coming now, and so did the androids.

'Oh good grief,' said 18.

17 smiled. 'You did say it was _too_ easy.'

Trunks erupted into golden flame, the air blasting back from him, and he chased the shockwave up towards them. He was coming right at Bulma and 17, but at the last moment he changed course and flew by 18, catching her ankle and sling-shoting her into the sky. Bulma caught the very start of her scream before it was lost in the distance. Trunks immediately loosed an enormous energy blast, that caught her just as she was starting to slow, which carried her away further.

'You know that won't stop her, Trunks,' said 17.

Trunks looked like he knew it. His eyes were still wild, and he moved and talked like a man with very little time. She wished he would use the time to save himself, but he obviously had different priorities.

'Let my Mom go!'

'What's that thing you have under your arm there?'

Trunks growled.

'It's must be precious the way you're hanging on to it.'

'It's nothing!' said Trunks.

Bulma was suddenly seized by an idea. If it didn't work, at least Trunks would get away. If it did work, maybe she would too.

'Leave Trunks! Take it away! It mustn't be destroyed!'

Trunks looked appalled, but 17 was intrigued.

'Mustn't it? Well I have your mother Trunks. I feel like destroying something, and if it can't be whatever that is, then maybe it'll be your Mom.' He manoeuvred her until he had an arm around her neck, pressing her back against his body and half strangling her. She fought against his arm, but croaked out 'Go!'

'Don't hurt her! You can have the drive, but don't hurt her.'

17 looked over Trunks's shoulder at a distant spot in the sky that Bulma supposed was his robotic sister returning. He smiled. 'Okay then. We'll swap. Hand over the drive.'

'You first – let my Mom go!'

'Okay then,' 17 said, and then Bulma was falling, screaming towards the ground. She heard Trunks scream too, but then suddenly her downwards motion was diverted – she was swept up in Trunks's arms, and he held her in two arms now – the drive was gone. She pulled herself up to look over his shoulder for the androids and saw 17 above, examining the drive curiously. 18 was nearly to him, and he began pulling and squeezing the housing. It was tough – it had to be to protect and contain its volatile contents, but she was counting on it not keeping the android out.

'Get the hell away from here!' she said.

'You don't have to tell _me_ Mom!'

Very quickly the androids were distant specks behind them. Bulma looked below instead and saw the ground blur past impossibly fast, and as she watched, everything was lit with a blinding flash so bright that as it faded day seemed as dark as night.

'Look out for the blast wave!' said Bulma, but no sooner than the words left her mouth Trunks was pushed from behind and they tumbled through scorching air. The sound was more than deafening, it was beyond sound, and left her insides feeling like they'd been taken out of her body and slapped against a wall. She thought Trunks dropped her, but just for a few seconds, and soon they were landing, half-blinded, half deaf and coughing on the dust that was settling. Trunks's knees gave way, and he landed hard on the ground, dumping Bulma in the dirt. He was saying something, but the words sounded like someone speaking from the next room; muffled and quiet. Whatever it was he was saying, he seemed concerned for her.

'I'm okay, are you all right?' she said, and even to herself her own voice was quiet and distant.

Trunks nodded. 'I can't hear properly,' she caught this time.

'Neither. Do you think that explosion could have destroyed the androids?'

'What?'

'Do you think they are dead?' she said, using simpler words, emphasising each one.

Trunks looked like he was considering it. Then his face crumpled and he shook his head. 'I've seen Gohan make bigger energy blasts than that in practice, and he didn't manage to destroy them.'

Bulma wasn't surprised. She didn't want to ask him the next question, but she had to. 'Can you go on?' Trunks was trembling she saw, and hating her weak herself she gathered him in her arms and held him. How she wished that she was a warrior sometimes, and now more than ever. She could be the one to pick him up and fly him to safety, and it just didn't seem right the other way round. Gohan had died today and already Trunks was having to act the saviour, and he was too young.

She squeezed him tight, and he jumped. Too late she remembered the massive hit he'd taken in this side.

'You're hurt!'

'It's okay Mom, I can still go on.'

'Let me see that!' She stood back and pulled the side of his jersey up. A large pinkinsh purple bruise about the size of a dinner plate was forming around his hip and ribcage. 'Trunks! Are your ribs broken?' She immediately began feeling around his ribs, which made him wince and gasp, but she couldn't feel anything too wrong. He pulled away and pulled his jersey down again.

'I don't think they're broken. Don't worry Mom. We need to get far away, don't we? I can take us.'

He flew much slower now. Bulma was cautious on the sore patch on his side, and held on with only her arms, and they had a lot further to go this time. After about an hour Bulma felt she was falling into a trance watching the landscape slide by below her. She even fell asleep for a while and then came too, feeling guilty. Falling asleep was not an option for Trunks on this journey.

It got warmer as they went South. 'Tell me a story about Master Roshi,' said Trunks, stirring her out of her daze.

She said the first thing that came into her head. 'He was a dirty old man who enjoyed watching aerobics on TV, and not for the benefit of his health.'

'What's aerobics?' asked Trunks. 'TV was those boxes that would show pictures and sound, like a video link, right?'

Bulma groaned. She explained aerobics and aerobisize, and then leotards and their incomplete stabilization of female anatomy during high impact exercise. Trunks blushed all the way up to his ears. He was such an innocent really. She felt sad for him all over again. Their running hare and bolt hole existence meant he hadn't spent much time around kids his own age. Then again, had she spent that much time with kids her own age? Until she'd run into Goku, and then Yamcha and Krillin she hadn't had any friends her own age. The kids of West City were so _boring_ , and they had thought she was weird, and, well, arrogant.

'I was not much older than you when I met Roshi for the first time.'

'But…didn't you flash him to get a dragonball off him?'

'Oh, yeah, Gohan told you that story didn't he?'

'How old were you?'

'Sixteen.'

'How could you have shown your…lady parts to an old man like that?' Trunks asked, his distaste clear in his voice.

Bulma grinned at her son's shyness. 'Just say it Trunks, you're not going to offend my delicate sensibilities!'

'Um…vuvla?'

Bulm snorted at the word he chose. 'Well I didn't know I wasn't wearing any panties. I knew Roshi was a perv, I was just going to give him a little illicit cotton-smalls action, so we could be on our way.'

'How can you not know you weren't wearing any underwear?'

'Well, that's a bit of a mystery. Did Gohan happen to mention who removed my underwear in the night?'

'No.'

'Well, his idiot father, who at fourteen years old, didn't know the difference between boys and girls, pulled them off me while I was sleeping to find out why I didn't have any family jewels.'

'What?' he said, and laughed in disbelief. Bulma laughed too at the ridiculous memory, all the outrage of the moment turned to quaint comedy by the years and all that had come since. Trunks's chuckle cut off abruptly though. 'Ow, my ribs! So what did Roshi do?'

'Overheated and had a nosebleed. I actually still didn't know I had no underwear on. It wasn't until I got dressed later that I found out. Ah, Goku!'

'I don't know how such a dirty old man invented the Kamehameha wave.'

'Well, he wasn't always the Turtle Hermit. He used to be the world's strongest warrior, still was until he trained the other Z warriors and they surpassed him.'

The island was coming into view now, the tiny speck off the coast. This part of the coast had always been wild and tropical, and the ocean was still the same beautiful aqua. Bulma got a lump in her throat, one that she didn't want to give in to right now.

They touched down on the sandy hump of the island. The house was decidedly derelict, the windows broken in by tropical storms, and now creepers and saplings were growing out of them. Bulma tried not to look at it, or at the sandy graves ringed with white stones at the East end of it where she and Roshi had buried what was left of Yamcha and Krillin thirteen years ago. She went directly to the opposite corner of the house and started digging in the sand right under the window.

'Do you think there's a chance Master Roshi might be alive somewhere?' asked Trunks, peering through the ivy into the house.

'Well, if he was alive he'd be almost three hundred years old now.'

'So you think he died of old age?'

Bulma kept digging, and considered. Age had never seemed to have it's proper effect on Roshi. 'No, I think he went down in his own blaze of glory. If he was alive he would never have abandoned this place.'

Her fingernails scrabbled on the hard case of a Capsule Corp strong box, and soon she had it out and open. The foam interior had indents to hold rows of capsules, but they were just under half empty. Some held capsule houses like the one that had just been destroyed by Android 18, some held medical supplies, food and water, and some held vehicles. This was her precious stash of Capsule Corp survival capsules, and for all she knew they were the last on earth. The last capsule had rolled off the production line a mere 8 days after the androids had revealed themselves, destroying the factory on the same day that they'd levelled the Capsule Compound and her parents. Now there was not the manufacturing capacity anywhere in the world to produce anything more complicated than a long wave radio except for Bulma's own inventions, and even these were made by hand. Once these were gone, that would be it. Bulma shivered just thinking about it.

She selected one house, one hoverjet and after a few moments hesitation, one food and water supply. Hey, they couldn't have a funeral and no refreshment afterwards, and if she remembered correctly each food capsule included a selection of bottom shelf spirits. The box looked even sadder now – just two more houses left, one more hover jet, two hover cars, a boat, three more food supplies, a capsule of heart virus antidote and just one more medical supply capsule. She closed the box and dropped it back in the hole. Trunks knelt down besides her and pushed the sand back over the top. Bulma was suddenly moved by the similarity to last time she was here – except that time Trunks had been ten years old, and it had been Gohan filling on the hole.

'Bulma!' said a voice from behind, making them both jump. 'You never visit any more.' It took her a second to recognise the slow, old voice, but when she did she looked to the shallows in the beach and saw him.

'Turtle! You're still alive!'

'Of course I am Bulma, I'm not that old, still in my eleventh century you know!'

'I didn't know, I'm sorry Turtle!'

'Of course, I don't visit here myself as often now that Roshi is gone. But I still come, because I would hate to think that people have forgotten the place.' He hauled himself out of the water and up the beach, and Bulma kept pace with him, Trunks shadowing behind.

'I'll never forget this place Turtle,' she said, and stopped, unable to go on without crying. She'd racked up hundreds of hours sunbathing here, ignoring Roshi's leery admiration; she'd met a four year old Gohan right on this very spot; she'd watched her ex-boyfriend being killed at the command of her next ex-boyfriend on the TV screen inside.

The turtle led them round the back of the house to the rings of stones, and shuffled up to them. As Bulma watched he eased a couple of straying stones back into alignment with his flipper, and then turned and blew the sand off the tops of some that were buried. 'Got to keep this place in order!' said the Turtle, cheerfully. Bulma felt instantly abashed. How else would these graves remain so well marked after thirteen years on a desert island? She hadn't even thought of it.

'Does anyone else ever visit here Turtle?'

'Well…there was that whale last week. Oh, and Gohan, a couple of times a year, usually to stand on the beach and blow the sea apart with the Kamehameha wave like his father and Master Roshi used to.'

Trunks made a little choking sound, and Bulma put her hand over her mouth to get control of it before saying 'I'm afraid Gohan wont be visiting any more Turtle.'

'No? No! Say no more! That is a terrible thing. I'm very sorry to hear that, very sorry indeed. When did this happen?'

'This morning,' said Trunks. 'It was my fault.'

'I find that had to believe, boy.' Trunks looked marginally relieved by this statement of faith, but it turned to surprise when Turtle continued 'You don't have it in you to hurt anyone, or be purposely reckless, just like your father.'

'Er, Turtle, he's Vegeta's son.'

'What? Oh so he is! I forgot! That explains why he looks nothing like Yamcha then! It must be my age, and I always thought you two would…oh, never mind.'

Bulma blushed with embarrassment and annoyance, but Trunks turned paler. He pushed his heavy hair out of his eyes, and Bulma noticed his hand was shaking. She needed to get him rested.

'Actually, Turtle, we can't hang around. We've got a funeral to arrange.'

'Of course, I understand. Paozu Mountain I suppose? Send my condolences to the Ox King for me.'

Bulma felt another cold slice of horror slide into her stomach. She'd forgotten all about Gohan's grandfather until that moment. He would soon have to know what had happened to his only grandchild.

She popped the hover jet's capsule and they shuffled aboard. Trunks was shivering and shaking in the front passenger seat; he was going into shock. She had to wonder if the same was happening to her as she programmed the autopilot – it took ages as she flubbed the co-ordinates twice, and hit reset by accident the third time. Where the hell was Pinktown anyway? She felt light-headed as they took off. She needed something, preferably warm and with lots of sugar in it.

She didn't need to open the supply capsule – the hover jet carried it's own emergency provisions, though not very good ones. She dug out protein bars and water crackers from the underfloor storage, popped a boiler-blister and chucked it in the bottle of water and used the heated contents to made instant coffee with absurd amounts of milk powder and sugar in them. Again she silently blessed her genius father – thanks to him they were able to drink fifteen-year old coffee on one of the worst days of their lives, and it didn't taste a day older than five years.

She tossed a bar and pack of crackers at Trunks but he made no move to catch them and they bounced off his chest. 'I c-can't eat.'

'Drink this then.'

He eyed the coffee with suspicion, but took it anyway.

He mechanically sipped his drink but Bulma drank hers so fast she scalded her mouth. She was just working open the wrapper of the protein bar when Trunks spoke.

'I'm sorry I'm like my father.'

She looked at him, his eyes downcast, jaw clenched, trying to control whatever emotion was eating him – self-hatred she suspected, and that wouldn't do, that wouldn't do at all. She stroked his cheek, but he didn't react. What should she tell him? The truth, or…The Truth? And what did he know about Vegeta anyway? She'd always been cautious in her account of the man to Trunks.

'Who told you that?'

He shrugged. 'No one. But I'm like him all the same.'

'And what's that like?'

Trunks fist's went white with the pressure of his clenching them. 'Reckless. Proud. Wanting to fight for the sake of it. Endangering others.'

Bulma was stumped. There was no denying any of those qualities in Vegeta, so Trunks must've been talking to someone in the know. She'd told Trunks of Vegeta's pride, but no so much the rest.

'Are you like that? Are you reckless? Are you wanting to fight for the sake of it?'

His eyes filled with unshed tears. 'I was today.'

'Are you proud?'

He shook his head.

Bulma sighed, and leaned over to stroke his thick purple hair, her heart aching for the guilt that her child was going through. She'd seen it before though; Gohan at about the same age, and the horrific time following the death of Vegeta and all the Z warriors.

'Listen. You are not that much like your father. But what there is, is no bad thing. Vegeta was flawed, but he was a great man. He was proud, yes, and reckless, but he was strong. He never, _ever_ quit. He would've sacrificed his body and his life before he quit. And he did. When the androids turned up he fought to the death against them.' This she knew was true. Now she crossed over into what she hoped was true about Vegeta. 'He knew they had to go down. He was a hero, and the furthest thing from a coward you can get. And he believed in second chances, in redemption.' And how could he not, when his time on Earth had been his second chance? Mercy, now that was a quality of Goku's.

Trunks looked into her eyes, drinking it in. He must have seen something there, conviction maybe, but he relaxed, closing his eyes as she stroked his hair some more. She would have to tell him more some day, everything she knew about his father at some point, but not now.

'I always wished I was more like Gohan,' he said softly.

'You _are_ like Gohan, love. More than you know.'

'Or Goku. Goku would save us all.'

Bulma's heart did a little flip-flop. 'What we need now is a Trunks. Soon, when he is strong enough,' she said feeling guilty for laying it on the boy, and for deep down agreeing that he was right – Goku would have saved them, he always had. And God, how she missed him!

After a few more minutes he seemed to fall into an uneasy sleep, much to Bulma's surprise. She fell back into the driver's seat watching the countryside whip by below her without taking it in at all. This was the part she was really not looking forward to. She picked up the radio handset and tuned the bandwidth to the frequencies the resistance groups used.

'This is Blue 1, all groups respond, all groups respond, over. I'm afraid I have some bad news, over.'

' _This is Mountain 2, responding over.'_

' _This is Bunker 1 responding, over. What's your news, over?_ '

'We've lost Gohan.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I love reviews! even though the final chapter has already been posted I'm still just as delighted to hear whatever my readers are thinking. I'm treating this whole 'first fan fic ever' as a learning experience, and feedback from readers helps me with that.


	3. Three Funerals

It was late afternoon by the time they landed at the Son household on Paozu Mountain. There were some people already there, working in front of the burnt out eyes of the broken dome. Trunks shrank into himself as the mourners turned towards them, casting his eyes down in shame. Out in the overgrown remains of the garden the Ox King greeted them, his beard greyer than Bulma had ever seen it, his frame leaner and more stooped, and though he had red, wet eyes, he still had a smile for both of them as they walked towards him. Bulma didn't know what to say – she'd brought back the man's grandson laid out in the hovercar, wrapped in a makeshift shroud made of old curtains. It turned out she didn't need to say anything. He gathered them both into his huge arms and they wept together silently.

Other people unloaded the body, cleaned it up out of sight while Bulma hid her face in the front of the Ox King's jacket. Eventually Darren, the leader of one of the other Resistance groups came to ask, timidly, where they should dig the grave. The Ox King led them, one arm over Bulma's shoulders, one over Trunks's, shuffling up the hill to where a wide spreading oak tree shaded two low mounds.

'Right here will be fine, next to his parents.'

Darren went to fetch spades and a couple of young men to use them.

'It was my fault, I'm sorry Poppa' said Trunks suddenly. His voice was high and much younger sounding than his fourteen years. He'd always called the Ox King Poppa, like Gohan did.

'No it wasn't,' replied the old man. 'You mustn't blame yourself.'

'You don't even know what happened!' Trunks protested.

'I don't need to know. I know you and I know my grandson well enough to know that whatever happened, it wasn't your fault. It was inevitable.'

As the men came to dig the grave, Trunks shrugged off the old man's arm. 'Let me,' he said, and grasped one of the spades. It was easy work for him, and he cleaved the ground into huge chunks which he tossed to the side like they weighed nothing. The two men who were taller and bigger, raised their eyebrows and stood back. The grave would be dug in no time, but Bulma was disturbed by the rigid, angry expression on Trunk's face.

Still, looking at the other two graves, this day was not as painful as the days those two were dug. The first, when the heart virus had taken Goku, had been full of sorrow and disbelief. They'd lost Goku before – he'd died once, and they thought he'd died again when he failed to return from the destroyed planet of Namek, but this time was for good, and none of them could get their heads around it. He couldn't be brought back by Shenron this time, and although they didn't know where New Namek was, when they started planning an expedition to New Namek to use their Dragon to resurrect him Goku had been adamant that they not do so. Chichi had been furious, betrayed, inconsolable, but Goku didn't want his friends to let their lives revolve around him for perhaps years to come only to impose again upon a people who had nearly been wiped out and their planet obliterated last time the Z-warriors had sought to use the Namek dragonballs. Besides, the next dimension didn't scare Goku any more. In his estimation he was very lucky to have gotten an extension on this life, so it didn't seem noble to fight to come back a third time.

All the Z warriors had gathered to his bedside on the last day. Bulma had been in the lab since Chichi had called her in a panic. She'd flown over with the best cardiologist in the whole Western continent, then returned to the lab with blood samples and cardio-grams. She, her father and their medical research team had started work on an antivirus based on the bug extracted from Goku's blood – but the virus advanced so fast that Goku was clearly at death's door in three days. It was the worst morning of her life till that point – admitting that the antivirus wasn't going to be ready in time and leaving the task to the researchers so she could be with her friend as he passed.

She remembered Vegeta, wordlessly bundling her up in his arms, numb, exhausted, and flying her to the Son household. He must have decided a hover car wasn't fast enough, but she'd never talked to him about it or asked him to take her or even come along. But there he was with the rest of them, though slightly apart, as Goku gasped his last painful breaths.

Vegeta had dug the grave that day. No one had asked him to, but after Goku had asked to be buried under the oak tree, there it had appeared, and the only clue to how it had appeared was Vegeta's ruined white gloves showing up in the kitchen bin later. Vegeta had always denied that there was any possibility of being friends with the low-class Saiyan, but he seemed as upset as any of the other Warriors when at last Goku's chest stilled.

Despite all the sorrow, she'd never felt closer to Vegeta than she had that day. It had given her real hope that their relationship would last, that there was goodness lurking in the bottom of his hard heart after all, but that hope hadn't lasted long. When the words 'I'm pregnant,' passed her lips she'd known that they'd really hit a turning point, a downhill one. Vegeta hadn't lasted a month before he announced he was going to take the spaceship back into space to train. He was desperate to reach Super Saiyan. Even with Goku dead he maintained his rivalry with him – he wouldn't rest until no one could deny he had surpassed the lower class Saiyan's power and skill. That's what he'd said, anyway. Bulma sensed something else from him; fear. Sometimes she'd hoped it was fear for the home and family he was beginning to build here on Earth when it's greatest protector had been brought down by a petty virus. Sometimes she thought he was afraid of the virus it's self, which was beginning to become epidemic, the Capsule Corp and dozens of other labs so far failing to find an effective anti-virus.

Most of the time though she thought he was just afraid of the idea of being a father, of being responsible for or beholden to anyone else, afraid of being _married_. Despite all her resolutions to herself to not let things get too heavy with Vegeta, or to pile her human expectations on him she felt abandoned and _angry_. In her frustration she'd gently suggested that he needn't be scared of life changes, a conversation that predictably escalated into a screaming match, her calling him a self-centred coward, shirking real life because he didn't know how to deal with it, and he denouncing her as a screeching, needy harpy constantly distracting him from more important pursuits with her petty _feelings_. He left that afternoon, two days ahead of schedule.

She'd been so angry that she didn't once try to use the hailing system she had revamped for the voyage for the first seven months he was gone, and likewise, he didn't try and contact her. She knew it was working – he had called her father twice to talk over technical issues with the ship, conversations she had found out about after the fact. She endured her pregnancy alone, pretending that she was a happily single mother-to-be, like a few women she knew; making a life decision, from the luxury of secure finances and dearth of suitable male companions, wham, bam, thank you Mr Sperm Donor. 'And what a sperm donor I picked,' she would mutter to herself at night when the baby had her squirming in pain as it kicked about her organs from the inside out. Not until the first shock of false labour had she let herself feel like there was anything missing from the picture, but when those first contractions hit in the night, and she'd rolled over to no-one there, and she tried to decide whether to call Yamcha or just her parents, she couldn't deny she was scared, nor that it was the baby's father she wanted there more than anyone.

She'd called him the next morning after she'd been sent home from the hospital, false alarm over, unrested and bad tempered. She had asked Yamcha to come to the hospital with her, and she wished she hadn't, as he'd spent most of the night scolding her for her choice of mate and his irresponsible behaviour. She had plopped down in front of the console and hailed the man. She'd brought breakfast along to pass the time – she wasn't surprised that Vegeta didn't pick up for a good fifteen minutes, but she left the channel open and was eventually rewarded with his sweat-sheened, dishevelled visage. He was frowning, and he looked tired, but not surprised.

'Has the child been born yet?' he'd asked.

'No. You look like crap.'

'So do you.'

Bulma shrugged. She'd been asking for that. Vegeta was breathing heavily, like he'd just been working out, which of course, he must've been. He was bare-chested, completely ripped. Bulma's neglected libido roared to life at the sight. _Mine!_ it said. _Bring him to me!_

'I had a rough night last night. False labour.'

He grunted acknowledgement. 'Why are you calling then?'

Bulma tried not to lose her temper, but didn't completely succeed. 'We don't talk for seven months, and that's how you greet me?'

'I just thought you were respecting my wishes.'

'What wishes?'

'To be left alone until I'm done here.'

Bulma gritted her teeth. 'I'm going to assume you didn't mean that to sound _quite_ as hostile as you did, so I'll forgive you this once.'

'So did you interrupt me for the sheer entertainment value of it?'

'No, I called to let you know that my due date is three and a half weeks away. From where you are right now it would take sixteen days to get back, but I wouldn't leave it too late in case the baby does decide to come a bit early.'

There was a pause while Vegeta wiped his face with the back of his arm and rocked back on his heels. He looked momentarily nonplussed, but finally he asked softly, 'And why would I need to do that, Woman?'

Bulma nearly cut the line right then, but she held it together in order to give the infuriating alien the benefit of the doubt. 'On my planet it is _customary_ for the father to be present at a birth, or at least close by, if possible.'

'Customary…but not strictly necessary?'

'Not _strictly_ , but I would say highly advisable not to mention...don't you _want_ to be here for the birth of you child?' She lost it a bit at the end.

'Woman, I am not done here yet.'

'Screw your self imposed restrictions!'

She glared at him, teeth bared, but he still continued to stand there calmly, looking wary and perhaps weary. Who knew what was going on behind that massive, stubborn forehead?

He sighed. 'You want me there?' he asked.

'Yes,' she snarled through her teeth, although her it was also on the tip of her tongue to scream that she never wanted to see him again.

He frowned suddenly, eyeing her suspiciously. 'Are you scared Woman?' he asked in a voice so low it was almost a growl. Bulma was completely taken by surprise by the question. Yes, she was scared! That was exactly why she had called him, she wanted him back here while she went through this terrifying thing process of… _childbirth_. But could she tell him that? She had always tried not to let him see when she was frightened, and he was so scornful of Yamcha's supposed cowardice. She wiped the startled look off her face and tried to answer.

'No. Although, you know, childbirth isn't entirely without it's risks…'

Vegeta grunted in acknowledgement, and appearing quite bored, picked up a towel from somewhere out of sight and wiped his face, then his hair with it. Without looking up he asked 'Do you have the best medical care available?'

'Yes, of course!'

'And a…a wise woman, or whatever your birthing experts are called?'

'A midwife? Yes.'

'Will you parents be there?'

'Yes!' she snapped, losing her temper.

'And that idiot Yam—'

'Maybe! What's it to you?'

'Will my being there make the birth easier?'

Bulma paused because she wanted to say yes, but she wasn't sure she had any justification for saying so. In all likelihood Vegeta being there would make everything harder, but she's _feel_ better. 'No. Maybe. I don't know!'

'Safer?'

'No,' she replied, defeated.

'Do you think that a lifetime spent enslaving races and laying waste to planets has equipped me to somehow make your trial easier?'

Bulma felt disappointment welling up. Vegeta dropped the towel again and looked up. 'No,' she whispered.

'If I can finish here in time, I'll be there, Woman.'

'I guess that's a no then.' She looked down at her hand resting on her massive belly.

Vegeta sighed again. 'If it's a boy, name it after me,' he said. 'None of your silly Earth names for a Saiyan Prince.'

Bulma fired back up again. 'I think that naming rights rest with those parents present when filling in the birth certificate! If you want a say you'd better be here!'

She raised her hand to cut the link, but he halted her with a 'Wait!'

'What?' she roared.

'You look well Woman. Tired, but well.'

'Huh? What's that supposed to mean?'

'It means you look...nice. You will be fine. I'll see you when I get back.'

'Whenever _that_ is!'

'Whenever that is.' And then he had hung up on her.

* * *

'Ah, Ms Briefs? Mr Ox King, your Majesty?'

The timid approach of a red haired teen-aged girl interrupted Bulma's recollections.

'They sent me to tell you that Korin is ready and we can start now, if you like.' Trunks had dug the grave, deeper than strictly necessary and was now standing at the bottom staring at the walls he'd made around himself. With concern Bulma saw his shoulders were shaking – and cursing herself for letting him dig the grave she called to him.

'Trunks, come out of there now, love.'

He looked up, his eyes swimming with tears, and attempted to scramble up the side blindly, only to land at the bottom in a shower of dirt.

'Just fly Trunks!' she said with exasperation, but Trunks had barely got to his feet before the Ox King leant into the grave and hooked the back of Trunk's sweatshirt with the one of his long arms. Bulma wouldn't have thought the old man still had it in him, but he lifted the teenager out without too much effort and buried him and Bulma both in a bear hug. That's how they faced the procession that came up the rise bearing Gohan's shrouded body.

Bulma endured the informal ceremony. It was painful, necessary. Gohan lay on the mound of earth next to the grave, the shroud pulled clear of his face for now, and Bulma could not tear her eyes away from the stillness of him. She remembered the limp weight of him as they'd hauled him into the hover jet earlier – she couldn't reconcile that now with her memories of the brave and helpful boy she'd taken to Namek.

The people of the resistance who knew him well gave short speeches about him, about his bravery and kindness and good nature. One mentioned the wisdom and burden he'd carried, both beyond his years. When Korin asked the Ox King if he wanted to say anything Bulma hadn't thought he would, but he did.

'There lies the last in the Ox King line. And I'd have given everything to have seen him live in peace on Paozu Mountain with his parents. But while he did, he was happy. Yes, I think those years were happy. Go to your Mother and Father in the next dimension Gohan. I won't be so far behind.'

Yep, that was it. That was why this time was not so bad as the last two burials under this tree. The first time she'd lost her friend, and it felt like the first time she'd ever truly lost anyone. Such devastating grief was unknown to her until then. And Chichi's death had come out of the blue – with no warning at all she had become one of the Androids' first victims. In comparison, Gohan's death was expected, and it felt like he was joining everyone on the other side of the veil, rather than leaving everyone on this side.

Bulma had been with Gohan when Chichi died. They were with Krillin and Yamcha and the newly returned Vegeta. They'd been trying to find the cause of these horrific scenes of destruction and chaos that had been occurring seemingly at random. Eye witnesses said there'd been two beautiful teenagers at the heart of it, but they were no closer to figuring who they were or why they were doing this when they turned for home. Bulma flew the hoverjet to the Son house to drop Gohan off, and there was the house, the upper stories smashed up, and Chichi lying out in the vegetable garden, broken and bloody. She was alive, but it was as if she'd only been waiting for her son to get home before passing. As they rushed to find a senzu bean and figure out how to get her into the hoverjet the gentlest way possible, Chichi told Gohan 'They were looking for your father, but he's already gone. Be a good boy Gohan.' And then she had gone too.

Bulma felt great wracking sobs take her as Baba twitched the shroud over his face, and they were as much at the memory of Gohan's grief for his mother as her own grief for Gohan. And that terrible night followed by the funeral in the grey morning, the Ox King there for his daughter, at that time inconsolable. Piccolo, Tien, Chao-Tsu, even Yajarobe, all the remaining Z warriors were there to see her off, and by the end of that day all of them were dead too. All except Gohan. Yajarobe had done his best to hide from the action during the fight, but when Gohan had fallen he had shown uncharacteristic courage, and dragged Gohan from the field to administer a Senzu bean. It had saved Gohan's life, but it had cost Yajarobe his as the Androids caught him just as he was forcing the bean through Gohan's jaws. And Vegeta, despite finally reaching his goal of becoming a Super Saiyan, hadn't been enough. He'd just gone down in a golden blaze of futility.

'The worst day of my life, and may it always be' muttered Bulma.

'Did you want to say something?' asked Baba.

Bulma almost shook her head, because she was blubbering too much to even say the word 'no', but then decided that she _must_ say something, Gohan had meant so much to her. She nodded, wiped her eyes, swallowed down hard on her sobs and nearly lost it again when she looked up at his body.

'Gohan, you managed to be the best son your father could have wished for, and the best son your mother could have wished for. How did you manage it?' The Ox King, Korin and Baba laughed, but nobody else was in on the joke. 'I was proud to be your friend. I was glad I was there for you when you needed me. I was glad you were there for _me_ when I needed _you_. And when we all needed you. We still need you.'

As she fell silent the men who were going to lower him into the ground stepped forward.

'Wait!' cried Trunks. 'I want to say something too. I want say I'm sorry.' He was the picture of dejection. His skin which had been so pale all day pinkened with a flush of shame.

'Trunks, you don't have to..' she whispered to him, but he ignored her, stepping forwards, speaking directly to Gohan's shrouded face.

'You were my best friend, like an older brother to me, my mentor, my sensei…I thought I was ready to step up and be the hero you are. But I was wrong. And for that you paid a great price…And for that your burdens are now mine. I'll do my best.'

'Son,' said the Ox King, placing his huge hand on Trunks's head. 'No-ones asking you to do that.'

'Someone has to.'

'Not yet,' said Bulma, barely getting the words out, reaching forward to put her hand on his shoulder again.

'No, not yet,' said Korin, stamping forward with his staff and placing his hand on Trunk's other shoulder. 'Can't deny there's something to this one though. Just like Gohan and Goku, just like his father.'

Baba floated over atop her crystal ball, and patted him on the hand. 'I've had a feeling about you since before you were born dear, since you were just a twinkle in your father's eye.' Bulma snorted, but watched, fascinated, as the red haired girl shuffled sideways and gently reached out to touch Trunks's arm. Belatedly she remembered that this was the daughter of one of Goku's friends S'now, now also passed.

'I believe in you Trunks,' the girl said.

As if this was a signal, all the mourners converged on Trunks, murmuring their encouragements and telling him it wasn't his fault, squeezing and patting him in a way that they might have meant to be reassuring. Bulma wasn't sure what they thought they were doing, pouring all their hopes and fears and energies into her son like he was a talisman. Trunks stood there, eyes wide, tears gone now, and quite speechless.

 _Please stop it!_ wished Bulma, but didn't have the heart to tell them out loud. Poor Trunks.

'Well,' said Korin, backing off, and with a nod towards the body. 'Time we got _this_ boy in the ground. Trunks, would you?'

Trunks stepped forward out of the ring of people, and scooped Gohan up as if he weighted no more than a child, then floated lightly into the air and down into the dark of the grave.

'Bye my friend,' she heard him say.

A little while later Bulma had broken out the food and drink rations and the crowd picnicked outside the ruin of the house on capsule-preserved ginger cake, ice cream and hot dogs. It was quite a treat for the teenagers and children who were too young to remember easy processed food, and sugar was so rare these days.

Trunk was trying to avoid the gaze of the others, which was no mean feat as he was the focus of everyone's attention. The red haired girl and a couple of other young ladies her age were actively admiring him and trying to engage him in conversation, but Trunks was not on their wavelength at all. Korin stumped over, carrying the sword that Gohan normally wore. He placed in it Trunks lap and said:

'This is yours now.'

'It is?' asked Trunks quietly, not looking up. 'Gohan didn't have a will did he? I thought it would go to his Poppa.'

'The sword knows who it belongs to,' replied Korin cryptically. 'Now I expect you to visit me at the tower from time to time son. With Gohan gone you might be the only visitor I get from now on.'

'Of course Mr Korin.'

The old cat hobbled on to have a word with the Ox King leaving Trunks looking more lost than ever.

'Here,' said Bulma, and handed him a cup with cheap rum and no-name cola in it. He took a sip.

'Mom, this one's got alcohol in it!' he whispered to her.

'I thought you could do with something a little stronger than soda, love.'

'Aren't all the other kids just drinking soda?' he asked, taking another experimental sip.

'You're not just a kid now though Trunks. Are you?' Then she felt bad. 'Don't worry, I'll swap it for just soda if you like.'

'No' he said, taking a swig. 'I don't feel like a kid any more. I feel so much older than I did yesterday.'

'That's what I thought,' said Bulma. She gulped down the last of her drink and poured another one. Someone had got out a portable stereo and put on a single that had played on the radio the day she'd dumped Yamcha for the last time. 'But don't forget, even us adults have to have fun and be happy sometimes.'

'I never will again,' he said, and gulped back the drink.

'You will, even if I have to force you,' she muttered. The red head was back.

'Trunks will you dance with me?' she asked shyly. 'Although, I totally under stand if you don't...'

'Sure he will,' said Bulma, before Trunks could reply.

'Mom!'

'Trunks!' She pulled him to his feet and shoved him at the pretty girl. She looked delighted, and Trunks was too polite to back down now. He took her hand, blushing.

'Got any more of that rum Bulma?,' asked the Ox King, taking a seat beside her. He poured a drink and she slipped hers, and they sat side by side, silently watching the kids dance, lost in their own memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I realise that the details of this story are not entirely consistent with the events of A History of Trunks. For instance, when Trunks interfered with Gohan's fight with the androids Gohan lost an arm saving him, not his life. He lost his life when he went back to fight them with only one arm. And Chichi was not one of the androids first victims. Partly this was a mistake, but also, I preferred it this way for my story. The inconsistencies are explained later.
> 
> For the addicts: More Vegeta coming up...and yes, he will eventually be turning up in person, not just flashback.


	4. Under Capsule Corporation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors note: I know that this is going to be a long ride, but stick with me. I've already almost finished writing the rest of the story*, so I'm not going to lose interest and leave it hanging ten chapters in or something mean like that. I'm merely uploading and editing/formatting some of the chapters I've already written. Please review!
> 
> *Updating my author note to admit that when I wrote this I was wrong. I didn't realise just how far I had to go. But really, truly, I am just a few chapters away from completion at 29/03/13.**
> 
> **Finally finished it on the 30th of May 2013.

Two years later the new time warp drive was a long way off finishing, but she was still determined.

Today she and Trunks were back at the site of the Caspule Compound. The hoverjet was nearby, cunningly disguised as a beat-up, burnt-out piece of junk. In truth Bulma had tricked it out, and it was now probably one of the fastest hoverjets to ever fly, but there was no way she wanted to let the Androids to find out she had a toy worth breaking.

The ruins of the Capsule Compound were also in disguise. The main house was quite, quite ravaged, and most of the other above-ground structures, but a lot of her and her father's underground lab was still intact. Years ago she and Gohan had craftily covered the entrance with large sheets of metal and polycrete, and some artfully arranged debris. This was what Trunks now gently shifted aside so they could descend into the mausoleum of the Brief's family's technology.

Bulma paused to light the antique hurricane light she preferred to use now. Batteries were hard to manufacture and flashlights were just not worth it.

'Tell me about the time after I was born,' said Trunks, continuing the conversation they'd been having in the hoverjet. 'What did my father say and do? Why didn't he come back straight away?'

Bulma led them through the first work room and into another larger one. The first one was pretty messy and broken up, but that was all part of the ruse. In fact it had been scoured for anything precious or useful, these items stored carefully in one of the larger rooms beyond. The second room was mostly full of her father's electronics projects. Through the windows at the back she could see the dark space that was the underground hangar where they constructed their larger projects and winched or craned them out of the overhead doors. The barely-started frame of the Capsule Corp Mark III spaceship could be made out in the dark where it was abandoned years ago.

She began to make her way around the benches, drawers and shelves, familiarising herself with the inventory again. One of the problems with coming down here for items was trying to cast her mind back fifteen years to the last time the labs had been in use – memory was entirely fallible. The other problem was that she hadn't known everything that had been down here in the first place – her father's gadgets and experiments were his own, and she had been too wrapped up in her own stuff to know half of what he was up to, left alone if he had any iridium plated components stashed away. Heck, she hadn't even remembered some of the things she'd found in her own work rooms. She'd also once spent days ripping the place apart looking for a set of blank quantum-state microchips she swore blind had been here the day before the androids made themselves known.

'Well,' she said, trying to keep her mind on the items she was searching, 'I didn't tell him you were born for a few days. After the last time I spoke to him, I guess I still was clinging to the hope that he would come back in time for the birth.'

'Why would you hope that?' asked Trunks, incredulous. 'From what you said he was being a real jerk.'

'Yeah, well, not right at the end. He was kind of nice to me at the end. For Vegeta, anyway. He said I'd be fine, and he was right.'

'Huh.'

Bulma frowned. She had decided recently that she would be completely honest with Trunks about Vegeta, and tell him anything he wanted to know, but she was worried that Vegeta was coming off worse in her recollections than he had been in real life.

'It would have taken him sixteen days to get back if he'd immediately set out when I'd talked to him. You were born eighteen days later, and then I held off, hoping he was just late. And I was so taken with you, I stopped thinking of him so much. My father in the end prompted me. He said he'd call him of I didn't. So I took you down here,' she said, indicating the lab generally, 'hailed Vegeta and waited for him to pick up…'

* * *

Vegeta's image winked into view. For once he wasn't half naked or sweat drenched. His gaze immediately fell upon the child and he froze. Bulma held the tiny boy up to the camera so he could see better.

'Your son,' she said

'Well done. He looks healthy, well formed.'

She looked into his face. He was transfixed by the boy, but whatever emotion he was feeling he had it totally locked down. Finally he looked up at her. Maybe he could feel her eyes burning into him. There was a fraught pause. _Say you're coming home, say you're coming home_ , she prayed silently.

'Have your father keep me informed of his progress' he said.

'If you come back you will see his progress for yourself.'

'You _know_ I am not done here.'

'No, actually I don't _know_ that.'

Bulma sighed. She felt like she was losing a battle in slow motion.

'Well now you do. There are bigger things than children being born. Children are born all the time.'

'Not _our_ children though. No other child is like your own child. You don't know what you're taking about Vegeta,' said Bulma. She smiled grudgingly at the babe. 'I never wanted children, and now…' She lifted the baby up to brush her lips against his forehead and breathe in his baby-skin scent. 'He is perfect Vegeta. You'll never know until you hold him.'

'Woman, I don't coddle babies. I'm not sure my father _ever_ held me. Little Vegeta won't grow up soft.'

Bulma hiccupped with a laugh that was half sympathy and half derision.

'I didn't call him Vegeta!'

'Then what did you call him woman?' Vegeta growled.

'Well, I'm not totally decided yet, but I like the sound of Boxer, and also Trunks. Which one do you think?'

'WHAT!?' His yell immediately woke the sleeping baby who opened his mouth and let out a wail.

'Oh, you woke him!' She lifted him and bounced him gently. 'Poor little Boxer. Did Daddy make you cry?'

'Woman, no son of mine is going to be called Boxer! He's the heir of the Saiyan race!'

'Trunks then. It's an old family name. Trunks Briefs! Future President of Capsule Corporation! Do you like that? Do you like that little Trunks?'

'Woman, I told you no ridiculous Earth names!'

'And I told you you'd only get a say if you were here when the birth certificate was signed! I've not sent it in yet - it's possible that if you hurry you could convince me to compromise.'

'Woman!' He was reduced to snarls of rage. Safely separated from his rage by millions of miles of empty space, Bulma found it amusing.

'Does that mean you'll come back?'

'Why are you always asking me that? Fine, call the child whatever you wish, you infuriating female!'

Bulma suffered another stab of disappointment. 'I think I'd better go then, you're upsetting Trunks.' In truth Trunks had calmed back down while his father raged, but Bulma's eyes prickled with threatening tears.

'Wait, Woman! Bulma!'

'Yes?'

'Don't punish me for not being who you want me to be. The timing of this was unfortunate.'

'Hmm, tell me when would have been _convenient_ for you Vegeta? Never, that's when. Don't kid yourself.'

'One has to have priorities. There are other things out there in this universe stronger than Frieza. Right now nothing stands between the Earth and them but space and ignorance.'

Bulma frowned, considering this. Vegeta had always been very clear about wishing to equal and surpass Goku's power, even made mutterings about being ready if some monster like Frieza emerged. She hadn't really believed him, but she'd always suspected that there was an element of virtuous sacrifice at the bottom of his desire to be the strongest. She suddenly had a new inkling into how he saw the universe – an endless place full of endless monsters. Of course, she still didn't believe that this was his _only_ reason for wanting to best her dead friend. But it was a noble reason, and she _wanted_ to believe it. It was better than some of her other speculations, such as Vegeta being too scared of the heart virus epidemic to come home. The worst of that threat was over now – the alliance that consisted of leading virologists, cardiologists, research scientists, universities, pharmaceutical companies and the Capsule Corporation had finally cracked the vaccine and antitoxin a few weeks ago. She'd made sure that her father had told Vegeta, but the news hadn't brought him back.

She settled down again, the venom taken out of her next words.

'And you can't do this here? The gravity chamber functionality works just as well when the spaceship is parked in the back garden.'

'No Woman, I can't!'

'Why not?'

He let out a rolling growl of frustration. 'Why? Why? Why all these questions? Why do you have to know the answer to everything?'

Whatever the reason, he sure didn't want to divest it. Bulma raised an eyebrow. 'It must be important to keep you away from your newborn son.'

'Do I have to spell it out to you?'

Bulma paused as if for insight to hit, but none came. 'I guess you'll have to.'

Vegeta glared at her, calming somewhat, but clearly gritting his teeth.

'Do you know how hard it is to operate at five hundred times Earth's gravity?' he hissed.

'Five hundred?! I only designed it to go to three hundred!'

'But if you pitch the ship exactly right as you pass quickly through the gravitation field of a sun you can add quite a bit more. Your father has been very helpful.'

'Hmm. Well I guess I don't know how much concentration it takes. Don't you just carry on like normal? It's your body taking all the strain.'

'No Woman, it's not. At anything over one hundred times gravity even I struggle to breath. Everything horizontal to the ground is so heavy, so ready to compress, to tear, to break under it's own weight, each move, each breath has to be planned so my muscles are ready to take the strain. Trying to channel my chi under this stress can cause me to black out if I divert too much, crushing me to the floor, and each chi blast is a thousand times more dangerous. It's the regime I choose to strengthen me the fastest, but it takes absolutely all my focus.'

'And why can't you do that here?'

'Because of you, idiot Woman!'

'What do I do?!'

'What do you do!? I almost died that afternoon that the gravity chamber blew up – and why? Because you asked me to come into the house for afternoon tea while wearing that indecent chest bandeau thing!'

'A boob tube?'

'Yes!'

'But it must have been at least an hour after that that you blew the damn chamber up!'

'An hour where I couldn't get you out of my mind! I made a tiny mistake and I ended up spending a week in a hospital bed. And it's worse than that! Last time I went into space, each time you called it took days to banish you from my mind enough to be able to train at full capacity. Stupid thoughts, like wondering what you were doing, whether that idiot was still around,' Bulma didn't need to ask which idiot, 'the sound of your voice, what your skin would feel like, what it would be like to bed you…'

Bulma blushed, remembering what it was like bedding Vegeta, but Vegeta looked angry and despairing.

'Well you know the answers to those questions now, so what's the problem?' she asked through lips which felt suddenly warm and plump.

Vegeta stared at her, then his gaze dropped to her lips, then her milk swollen breasts. 'Ugh,' he grunted putting his head in his hands as if defeated. 'I thought that would work too. If I made myself familiar with your body, your scents, your pleasures, that I would become immune to them and be able to go on in peace. But I just made things worse!'

Bulma had been appreciating the back-handed compliments until this. 'What are you saying? That our whole relationship has just been an effort on your part to get over me?'

'Something like that, yes. Up here I can go for days without you entering my thoughts, but when I see you I just want to forget everything, I just want to be in your bed, crawl away like some weakling from the task. I can't have it. Thinking of you is going to kill me.'

So what she had been hoping for he had been struggling against all this time? So he did think of her longingly after all, but he was quashing those thoughts? Bulma stood up abruptly, hurt, very hurt. 'You know what? It's not going to be me, but you who is going to kill you - with five hundred times gravity! You're fucking insane Vegeta!' And she broke the connection.


	5. The Homecoming

'Look out Mom!'

Trunks darted forward to catch the anti-static cabinet that she had toppled whilst trying to tug the lead of a laser etcher out of a wall socket. His deflection though sent the cabinet whipping back into the wall where it shattered, showering Bulma with safety glass.

'Oops, sorry Mom. I guess I don't know my own strength.'

Bulma giggled, nerves a-jangle from the fright, and brushed glass off herself. 'Well, you are the most powerful being that ever lived on the planet!'

'I don't know about _that_ Mom.'

'I said _lived_ , Trunks. Hell-bound robots don't count.'

'I was thinking more of Gohan…and Goku.'

Bulma narrowed her eyes and examined him. 'Surely you're stronger than Gohan ever was, now. I've seen what you can do.'

'Maybe, maybe not. I guess I'm not dead yet though.'

'Hey,' Bulma pressed her finger to his nose like he was still a toddler. 'No talk like that.'

Trunks smiled. He'd clashed with the androids almost two dozen times already. Like Bulma and the Ox King had said he kept his head low for the first half a year he was flying solo. He'd trained like crazy. And then, Bulma wasn't sure how it came about, but she suspected he had gone looking for trouble. He'd found them, fought briefly, and then escaped. She'd struggled to contain her fury when he came back and told her what had happened, but it appeared that this had been some sort of trial run and Trunks had proved something to himself. From then on he would not be put off when mayday calls came in over the radio – he'd done his part, just like Gohan had, saving ordinary people from the cold violence and destruction of androids 17 and 18. Bulma would watch when she could though – from a great distance.

His one advantage over them was that he was faster. He wasn't inexhaustible though. His strategy was to get in, engage, and then flee before hiding, leading the droids off long enough for the people to escape. Still, that didn't mean he didn't get absolutely pasted more than a few times. He carried a sensu bean taped to the inside of his arm, and he'd had to use the precious things three times to save his life. Korin could not grow them at the same rate as he used to, and Trunks didn't always have one to fall back on.

One time they had beat him unconscious, and knowing that he would be dead if she didn't get him out of there, Bulma had used Trunks's tactic herself, buzzing the androids in her hoverjet, then leading them off a short distance before nearly crashing the jet in her haste to land the thing. She'd hid in the broken sewer system and managed to lose them while the family Trunks had been trying to save had dragged him away. That had cost them the second-to-last hoverjet.

In the medical lab Bulma moved with more purpose. There were components in the regeneration tank he father had started building that she knew she wanted. After that, in her own workroom she headed to a box containing computer chip blanks and began rooting through it.

'So,' said Trunks, leaning up against the bench next to her. 'I guess my father was kind of noble then. When did he finally come back? And why? Did he reach the level he was striving for?'

'Yes, but it wasn't just that,' she said, putting the selected boards in her backpack. 'In fact, I think the other thing that did it was what also put him over the edge enough to become a super Saiyan.'

'Really? What was that?'

'Your Uncle Yamcha's interfering.'

' _Uncle_ Yamcha?' said Trunks in confusion. 'I thought he was Goku's friend, and kind of your ex-boyfriend.'

Bulma laughed. 'Sorry, yes, he was that, and more than just 'kind of' an ex-boyfriend. I'm not sure why I called him your Uncle Yamcha just now, but that's how he referred to himself when he talked to you as a baby. If he lived you'd have known him as Uncle.' Bulma paused as she considered a world in which both Yamcha and Vegeta survived the androids. 'Well, probably.'

'So what did Yamcha do?'

'Hmm, he came round one day when you were about four months old. He was supposed to be baby sitting you while Dad and I went to a Capsule Corp board meeting.' Bulma held a pile of componentry unseeingly in her hand while the eye of her mind focused on those memories.

* * *

'Hey little buddy, you going to give your Uncle Yamcha a smile? No?' Trunks stared back at Yamcha, his customary little frown and pout undisturbed. 'Bulma your kid is the most serious baby there ever was.'

'Hey! He's smiled a few times. I'm sure a sense of humour is something babies develop as they grow up.'

'Okay. Just be prepared for the possibility that lack of sense of humour is a hereditary birth defect.'

Bulma dropped the diapers she was folding and punched Yamcha in the arm. He was so burly he surely didn't really feel it, but he flinched away anyway.

'That's my kid and his father you're talking about!' she said hotly. Trunks hiccupped and coo-ed, a grin spreading over his baby features. 'See!' proclaimed Bulma, lifting Trunks form the crib. 'He's smiling now. Do you like it when Mommy hits your Uncle Yamcha Trunks?' She landed another solid blow on Yamcha's shoulder and Trunks let out a little chuckle.

' _That's_ hereditary at least,' grumbled Yamcha, and then she hit him again to the delight of the baby. 'Ow, Bulma, cut it out! What's the lesson you're teaching him here?'

'Yeah right, like this kid is going to grow up and never see friends and family beating the crap out of each other on a regular basis.'

'Wha…' Yamcha's face slackened in shock. Suddenly Bulma realised what he must think she was saying. Yamcha had always suspected that Vegeta physically abused her, not matter what she said to the contrary.

'No, moron! I meant you and the Z fighters, and Vegeta with you guys!'

'Oh. Well, that is if _Vegeta_ ever actually comes back.'

Bulma's face fell. She couldn't help it. Any mention of Vegeta's absence made her angry and depressed.

'Don't worry, he'll probably turn up in time for Trunk's high school graduation.'

'Nice Yamcha,' she said. She passed Trunks over and looked around for her briefcase.

'Sorry, I don't mean to rub it in Bulma. But you deserve more than this.' Bulma carefully avoided Yamcha's gaze, but he went on. 'And this little one, he's going to need some sort of father figure as he grows up.'

'I happen to think my father is an ideal father figure.'

'Yeah, if you want a teenager that runs off and does whatever they damn please, straight into the biggest pile of trouble they can find.'

Bulma laughed a little despite herself. 'Touche. Is that why you've started coming around more then? To be a stand-in dad?'

'Maybe. Maybe I just started to like the little guy.' He held the baby up in the air above his head and grinned at him. Trunks reached out and batted him on the nose with his little baby fist. Bulma laughed, and then so did Trunks and Yamcha.

He put the baby down on his playmat and watched him grasping for the colourful soft toys hanging from the mobile.

'I like coming round, Bulma. I like being here. We've had out differences but I'll never stop enjoying spending time with you, or your family. I miss it. I mean,' he said slowly, lowering his voice, 'I'm more than kind of bummed that I'm not little Trunks's Daddy. I know I said I never wanted kids but…I figured that if you did ever have one, they'd be mine. I didn't know what I was missing out on.'

'Yamcha…' She didn't want him to be saying these things. She should tell him she didn't agree. But how many nights lately had she spent wondering how much easier life would've been if she'd forgiven Yamcha, if she hadn't become so obsessed with Vegeta? Yamcha had his flaws, but they couldn't be said to be worse than Vegeta's; he was still a good man, still handsome and strong, and most of all still _here_. And yet it was still _Vegeta_ she wanted!

'Seriously Bulma, when are you going to lay down the hard word with the man? If he still doesn't come back he doesn't deserve you.'

'I'm not going to give him some childish ultimatum.'

'Are you going to let him make you feel bad the rest of your life then? He's missing the start of his son's life! What's five years to that guy? Ten? Does he really intend to come back at all? The best years of your life are passing by and there's no man in them.'

Angry tears welled up in her eyes, and she swiftly dabbed them away with before they could run the freshly applied mascara. 'You're an asshole Yamcha.'

'Yeah, I am. Or I was. If I had a chance to make it up-'

'No!' snapped Bulma. 'Don't say anything more. I have to go to this meeting; I can't be rehashing the past with you.' She picked up her briefcase and strode for the door.

'Let sleeping dogs lie, and all that? I don't remember you being so conflict adverse Bulma.'

'Don't worry Yamcha, all I need is a man in my life to provide the anvil to my hammer!'

She closed the door on him as he guffawed, and she realised too late that this didn't sound at all how she'd meant it, but she wasn't going back in to correct the impression; she really was running late.

'Asshole, asshole' she muttered as she mounted her hover scooter for the short trip across the compound to the administration block.

When she got to the board room though only her Dad and the minutes taker were there.

'Bulma,' said her Dad, sitting in the president's chair. 'They tell me that air traffic control is down all over the city. None of the board members have been able to get through on their hoverjets. They're coming by land now, but we've postponed the meeting until four.'

'Great. Great. That's going to clash with Trunks's feeding time,' she grumbled.

'Sorry love. Should I postpone until a bit later?'

'Oh, don't be silly Dad! No, they'll all be here. I don't know. Maybe I'll bring him here and feed him at the board table.'

Her father laughed and the minutes taker tittered, but Bulma was serious.

'See you later Dad.'

When she was back in her apartments on the other side of the compound she found no-one in the nursery. She went to the kitchen, but they weren't there either. She went downstairs to her mother's kitchen and the main lounge, but there was still no-one. Her mother wandered in the back door wearing gardening gloves and high heels. Wow, her mother was quite a dame.

'You're still here Mom? I thought you'd be out shopping already?'

'Oh, Clarice couldn't get through. There's some traffic situation out there right now. We're going tomorrow. What about your meeting?'

'Postponed, same reason. Hey, are Yamcha and Trunks out there in the garden with you?'

'Oh no, but I saw Yamcha taking him out to your little den.' Her mother referred to her and her father's underground labs and workrooms as their 'little den'.

'What?' Mystified, Bulma hurried there herself.

'Yamcha?' she called as she went from lab to lab. He wasn't in any of them, so she hurried down the corridor to the smaller offices. That's when Yamcha stepped out of the office that held the spaceship's remote monitors and vidlink.

He leapt in surprise and couldn't have looked any guiltier if he tried. Trunks slumbered peacefully against his shoulder.

'What did you DO?'

'Hey, your meeting didn't last long!'

'Yamcha!'

'We just talked.'

Bulma took a threatening step forward. Yamcha flattened up against the wall, and pulled Trunks off his shoulder to form a tiny barrier between the two of them.

'You are not on chatting terms with Vegeta! What did you say to him?'

'Nothing that didn't need to be said.'

'WHAT DID YOU SAY?'

Trunks opened his eyes and began to cry.

Yamcha looked immensely uncomfortable. His eyebrows quivered with stress, and he tried to laugh it off. 'Don't worry about it Bulma!'

'YAMCHA!'

'Hey, you should be thanking me! At least now you'll know of he doesn't come back soon he's no man at all and he wasn't worth having in the first place!'

'WHAT!?'

'Here, I think he's hungry,' said Yamcha and thrust the bawling Trunks at her. Bulma clutched the kid one handed and rounded on Yamcha again but he made run for it. She swept into the office and mashed the hail button. Nothing. They must've just been talking, surely Vegeta was not already doing something uninterruptible? She looked at the controls and monitors. Everything was online, there was no damage to either the controls or the ship as far as she could tell. The ship was stationary, 27 days out from Earth, in some kind of semi-hospitable atmosphere, and there was a constant external gravitational force acting upon it, so it must be parked up on a planet somewhere.

She tried the hail button again and tried to count to sixty before pressing it a third time. More nothing. She fought panic and impatience, switching to the life system monitor to see if she could tell his mood from his vital signs, however there were no signs of life onboard the ship anywhere. She experienced a moment of pure fear before she flipped back to ship's monitors and saw that the door was open. Phew, so he was probably just outside. She put Trunks down in an open drawer, feeling slightly like a bad mother, she hacked the ship-side privacy settings and checked the feed from the outside security cameras. Nothing much to see there, just broken blue-ish rock. Then she checked the feed from the internal camera, forcing the vidlink open. Of course, he wasn't there. The place was a mess though. Random bits of laundry scattered the room and the place was covered in dark scorch marks. Some of the internal panelling was hanging off the wall, and some of the floor tiles were busted. Bloody hell! Was this the result of slow wear and tear, or had Vegeta lost his temper just now? She didn't know as she hadn't come back to check on him or the ship since the week of Trunk's birth.

Reluctantly she cut the feeds and waited another two hours in her office next door, coming through every twenty minutes or so to see if Vegeta had returned. She missed her meeting. Finally, hungry, she returned to her mother's kitchen for dinner.

The next day Vegeta was still not inside the ship. She checked the log and the door had been open for 20 hours. She was immediately filled with anxiety when she saw this.

She told her parents what had happened at lunch.

'But Vegeta's so big and strong!' her mother chided her. 'I doubt anything could have hurt him.'

'Your mother's right Bulma. Vegeta can more than take care of himself. I don't know what you're worried about.'

'Maybe I'm worried that he took whatever Yamcha said to heart and he's gone and done something stupid.'

Her parents laughed. 'Vegeta's not a teenage girl Bulma! I don't think Yamcha could have said anything that would get to him that badly.'

'He's always had a very firm ego,' smiled her mother, batting her eyelashes.

She tried to follow their advice, but the knot of worry didn't start to subside until the next morning. She had checked throughout the day before, but now the door was closed, the ship was spacebourne, and there was definitely a person on board. Vital signs were calm and healthy. There was no answer to the hail. She sat for an hour agonising about whether to hack the internal camera feed again. Vegeta would be outraged if he caught her – as far as he knew the ship was totally private, but Bulma simply _had_ to check that it was really him on board and not some desperado ship-jacker.

When the feed blipped on it showed the same scene as a couple of days ago, but now there was a Vegeta lying on the floor, spread-eagled like a rag doll. He wasn't doing anything, wasn't even sleeping, just breathing evenly, staring at the ceiling. Bulma stared, fascinated, then guiltily pulled the connection.

She hailed him again the next day and got the Do Not Disturb screen. Honestly, she thought he'd never figured out how to use it. This was seriously annoying. But then she noticed that the ship was only twenty five days out.

The next day it was twenty four.

She tried not to get excited. She tried to tell herself it could be a co-incidence that he was heading in an Earthly direction. She stopped hailing him and she stopped checking the distance every day. She tried not to think about him, but still her days became brimful of optimism and more than a little apprehension.

She was even inclined to be merciful when Yamcha came back with his tail between his legs.

'I forgive you,' she said, without his even asking. 'I get you were just trying to do the right thing for me and Trunks.'

Yamcha was too relieved to question her uplifted mood. He was back in the good books, and play dates with Trunks in the park, and afternoon tea with Bulma and her mother were back on the agenda. It was at one of these afternoon teas that Yamcha's easy happiness was shattered.

He'd just light-heartedly suggested that the two of them go on an adult date, sans Trunks. This had caught her, not precisely by surprise, but had certainly disappointed her. How would she let him down gently?

In the slightly awkward pause Yamcha helped himself to a cream filled doughnut, but dropped it down the front of his dark business suit (he was enroute to a management meeting for the baseball team he owned and played in). Bulma looked up in surprise – Yamcha was not, as a rule, a clumsy man. She saw the look on his face and chills ran over her body.

'What is it?' she said, almost whispering.

'I gotta go,' he said, and without even looking back at her, ran from the room, out through the ranch slider and into the garden.

'Wait, what is it?' yelled Bulma after him, but Yamcha didn't hesitate, just launched himself into the air and took off like the devil was on his tail, suit flapping, abandoning his sports car on the driveway.

'Huh?'

The next second though, Bulma began to have an inkling why Yamcha had fled. A distant rumbling reached her, growing louder until she realised it was coming from the sky. She looked up, and there was a bright light, like a star in the day-lit sky, growing brighter and larger. She pressed her hands to her face, unsure of what emotion was trying to make itself shown there.

'Bulma, what is it?' asked her mother from the doorway.

'You'd better get a huge dinner spread going Mom – Vegeta's back!'

The sound of the spaceship coming in to land was loud, but once the ship was as big as an orange in the sky its decent slowed, the engine kicking up a notch and the sound became deafening as it came down on its hoverjets. Bulma covered her hands with her ears and watched the sphere, still faintly glowing red on its underbelly, gently settle into its spot next to the lab as if it had never left. Bulma ran back inside and plucked Trunks from the bassinet by the couch, then took her place outside the dome again. If she'd stopped to think about it, she might have been forced to admit that she was using her baby as a baffle between her and the father, but she didn't have the time to analyse. The spaceship's door slid open.

There was the dark shape of the prince. He leapt to the ground without waiting for the steps to unfold, then began to look around. Even at this distance Bulma could see the anger in his face.

'Where is he?' he shouted. 'Where is that GODS-FORSAKEN COWARD?' He leapt into the air and a wave of power whipped out from him, blasting hot air over Bulma and Trunks, causing her hair to fly like a flag in a hurricane. She screamed in fright, but it was lost in the noise, and forgotten the next instant when Vegeta erupted into golden flames.

'No way!' said Bulma, falling to her knees.

But he took to the sky, immediately heading for the city, the same way Yamcha had gone, but faster, much faster. Like a flaming rocket he made a streak across the sky, but came to a stop above the monorail in the centre of town. He shouted again, and Bulma was surprised – she could still hear his every word at this distance.

'Hide like the coward you are, dog, but if I ever catch you here again I'll kill you! He is MY son, she is MY woman!'

'What the fuck…' murmured Bulma, forgetting her resolution to not use bad language around the baby.

The golden figure returned, and Bulma got up off her knees, as wobbly as they were. This moment that she had been waiting for, it should be one of enormous happiness, but instead she felt mostly anger and anxiety.

Vegeta slowed, and landed close to her, close enough for her to feel the waves of warm chi rolling off him, see his oddly glowing aqua eyes that made his light-swathed face look so alien.

'Ga!' said Trunks.

Vegeta looked straight into her eyes, his face still etched with fury, but then he looked down at the child. His expression slackened to something blank, and the golden light flickered away with a sigh. He looked the same as ever, only more disreputable than usual, with his training suit torn up and shredded in parts, even stained with blood here and there.

'So this is him?' he said, his voice hoarse and gravelly.

'Uh-huh.' Bulma's heart had begun to beat wildly. She honestly didn't know if it was from excitement or fear or rage.

Vegeta walked towards her slowly, his eyes on the boy. He stopped a couple of steps away, and reached out his hand towards Trunk's face. Bulma lifted Trunks towards him, but he flinched back, letting his hand fall again.

'He is amazing,' said Bulma wanting Vegeta to love Trunks as much as she did. But Vegeta just looked wary.

'Obviously, he's no ordinary brat,' he said, gruffly.

He looked up at her and Bulma's mind went blank. Those hard eyes, black as jet, looked into hers, and all she could read was a kind of fear. Maybe it was the same kind of fear she felt herself. She didn't know what to do or say, and as the moment stretched on and on she realised that Vegeta didn't either.

'Vegeta dear!' interrupted her mother from the lounge. 'Come inside! We were just having some afternoon tea!'

The spell was broken.

'That's the best idea your mother has ever had,' muttered Vegeta. He trudged past Bulma, movingly stiffly. She followed, standing next to the sofa to watch Vegeta stuff two pastries into his mouth in quick succession.

'Oh my,' said her mother, covering her nose with her hand. 'Help yourself dear, I've got more in the freezer I can defrost.'

Bulma wrinkled her nose too. 'Vegeta, did something happen to the bathroom unit on the ship?'

'Yes,' said Vegeta, finishing off the last cupcakes on the platter. He turned, caught Bulma's eye and looked away again, then spying the cream doughnut Yamcha dropped on the floor, picked that up, sniffed it, made a face, but pushed the whole thing into his mouth anyway. Then he picked up the teapot, but failing to see a cup immediately at hand, he brought the spout to his lips and drank straight from it.

'You must be so hungry dear, with nothing but capsulated food on that ship Vegeta,' said her mother.

Vegeta grunted in the affirmative.

'How's about I make you up something lovely?'

'Yes,' inserted Bulma quickly, 'In the meantime you can get yourself cleaned up.'

Vegeta grunted again, and closed his eyes, wiping the back of his mouth with his hand. He looked bone tired.

Bulma followed him up stairs, then hovered, attempting to settle Trunks in the nursery crib while she listened to the sound of the shower in the next room. Her up stairs apartments used to be the guest quarters, with three adjoined rooms off the one corridor, each with their own bathroom, and then the upstairs kitchen and small TV lounge. Now they were Bulma's bedroom, the Nursery, and Vegeta's room.

Trunks was having none of it. He wasn't ready for a nap and he seemed to have picked up on his mother's mood.

'Be a good boy, Trunks, your Daddy's back,' she whispered to him, but he clung to her hair and squawked every time she tried to lie him down. So she paced the nursery with him instead, not sure what else to do with herself.

'Get a grip Bulma,' she told herself. 'It's only Vegeta.' But this didn't help.

The shower next door turned off. A few minutes later she heard him leave the room, and for a moment thought he was going to walk on past, but he caught sight of them through the open nursery door and stopped. He was wearing 'civilian' clothing she noticed with satisfaction. Something from the wardrobe she'd acquired for him a couple of years ago – red and white patterned board shorts and a yellow T-shirt with a Maitai Island logo on it. She doubted he ever thought much about his fashion choices, but it made her happy when he dressed like an everyday man. And this also meant that he wasn't planning to leave or do anything else strenuous today.

'He's not sleepy, now that you're here,' said Bulma, lying a little.

Vegeta came in, moving slowly. His unease was so evident, Bulma felt sorry for him. She supposed nothing in his life had prepared him for babies. He hadn't been prepared for a relationship either, but they'd muddled through. Kind of. Well, maybe not really at all, but there was still hope. She hoped.

'Hold him,' she said, offering Trunks to him.

'Woman, I would crush him.'

This gave her pause. Of course, she didn't want her son crushed, but also she didn't really believe him. Goku had never harmed Gohan.

'No you won't. You'll be gentle.'

'Woman…!'

'Hold him!'

'I don't know how.'

Bulma stepped forward and pressed Trunks to him, and Vegeta was forced to open his arms to the little boy. She let go gently, with Trunks sprawled awkwardly over Vegeta's forearms. 'Aya!' said Trunks, not impressed.

Bulma stepped back a little, and her smile died on her lips. Vegeta was frozen, incapacitated by the tiny boy in his arms. She saw anger and then dismay flicker across his face before he carefully resumed his blank expression.

'He's so light,' he said.

'If you say so,' she replied, breathing easier. 'Try carrying him around for a few hours, he weights a ton. Apparently he's a good four pounds heavier than an average 6 month old.'

'I doubt he'll ever be average for a human. Purple hair, now _that_ is unusual,' said Vegeta.

'Not _that_ uncommon for a human. It runs in my family. My father used to have purple hair. But everybody says he's got his father's scowl,' said Bulma, her forced light heartedness sounding lame to her own ears.

Vegeta's mouth twitched with amusement. Then Trunks squirmed in his hands, almost rolling out of them. Vegeta moved like lightning, pulling him back with one hand, but this frightened Trunks who opened his eyes wide and wailed.

'Take him!' he said, handing him back again.

Bulma was going to object, but them her mother's voice rang over the intercom.

'I have some noodle soup and some sandwiches and some pie!'


	6. The Rocky Start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: This fic has naughty bits. Hold that in mind if you're squeamish. You could skip the last quarter of the chapter, but where's the fun in that? This fic doesn't have many lemons, but they are there, and this will be the last warning. I will assume that from this point onwards you are old enough and mature enough, and know your own limits enough to use your discretion.

Bulma kicked the box back under the bench and packed the vial of circuit etching acid too.

'So, were you and my father together or not when he came back?' asked Trunks.

Bulma paused, rubbing her back which had stiffened up. 'It's hard to say. I don't think we were going to make it, but I never got a chance to find out for sure.'

'Why not?'

'Because, dear one, we had stuff to work out between us. And Vegeta had stuff of his own to work out. And we never got the chance to do it because only a month later the Androids showed up.'

And then Trunks asked her something which really surprised her. 'Well, were you sleeping with him again when he came back?'

Bulma's mouth popped open. Trunks blushed, and so did she. The truth was that they had had sex only three times after he returned, and only the first time could it be described as 'sleeping with him.' She'd found some part of the truth that she didn't want to reveal to Trunks.

'Well, that's not really any of your business, is it?' She blushed harder. That time between Vegeta's return and the Androids arrival and the painful consequences…it was amongst the most regretful, most bittersweet times of her life, and she had spent so much of her life since wondering what she would have done if she'd known that the end of the world was coming for them, and wondering what would have happened if it hadn't.

The memory of Vegeta's first night back, and the last day they were together burned their way back to the surface.

'I'm sorry Mom, I shouldn't have asked that.'

'Oh, don't worry about it Trunks.'

The first night Vegeta was back was wonderful and awful. She couldn't tell Trunks about that. About her own mounting anxiety as the evening came on, as Vegeta said he was tired after finally putting away the last of his massive dinner, and she'd said she was too, but she wasn't really. She just wanted to see if he would come to her room or not. And then in the corridor when he'd walked on past her room and she'd said, in the most shameful of weak voices, that he could come to her room if he wasn't quite ready to sleep. It was the closest she'd ever come to pleading to Vegeta, because she wasn't being suggestive, not really. She was just plain scared that he might not want her any more.

He'd nodded once in acknowledgement and carried on to his room.

She'd gone back to hers, trying not to feel devastated and telling herself that he must be just really tired.

'I'm his Woman,' she told herself, 'he said so.'

But as she got changed for bed all her anxiety made itself known. She examined herself naked in the mirror – she was not the same woman he'd left behind, not quite. This new woman had stretch marks on her belly, which was still not as smooth and as flat as it had been before her pregnancy. She had fuller breasts, but the nipples were larger and darker, and they hung lower. They certainly weren't quite the perky things she'd always taken for granted. And her vulva didn't _look_ too much different now, but she was positive that a difference would be noted. Would he want this? Screw him if he didn't! But…she'd never been rejected before.

And then there was her anger.

She had lain in bed, sleepless, wanting to go to _him_ , but knowing that the ball was in his court. 'He's probably fast asleep anyhow,' she told herself.

And then the door had opened and he was there.

She switched on the bedside lamp, and then wished she hadn't. He wouldn't have such a chance to see how she was different if the lights were off. He was wearing his favourite style of black stretch cotton boxers and a plain white singlet.

'You just going to stand there?' she asked. Wordlessly he came to the bed. He was frowning, a dark gleam in his eye. Bulma knew him better that to read too much into his expression, but it still irritated her. He was still hesitating. What was his problem?

'Are you just going to stand _here_ instead?'

'What is it that you want me to do?'

'Do I have to tell you?' she said. She bit her lip – the words had come out sounding like a complaint.

He scooped her up and shifted her roughly into the middle of the bed, then lent over her, a hand either side of her shoulders. He didn't look amorous, he didn't look happy or turned on or glad to see her. He still didn't move on her.

'Do you even want to be here?' she asked acidly.

'I could ask the same question of you,' he replied.

'Why do you think I asked you in?'

'I'm beginning to wonder.'

'Then stop wondering! Are you going to touch me at all?'

Vegeta growled, his lip drawing back in a snarl, and then he lowered himself to her and kissed her. And rather than the sweet relief she expected, she felt a hot surge of emotion run through her from her lips, and it wasn't desire, it was fury. It was intolerable - she realised that the last thing she wanted was him all over her. She stiffened and tried to pull away.

Vegeta roared, throwing himself off her. 'What? What? What kind of game are you playing with me?'

'No game at all!'

'Then why am I here? You don't want me touching you, yet you ask me to touch you? Why am I here?'

She glared at him for a second, trying to pick out one of the sources of her anger. 'Yes Vegeta, why _are_ you here? Did you even _want_ to come back?'

'Of course I did! Did you not listen to me woman? I finished my task _, I came home_.'

'Is this your home? Or just the only place you have to come back to?'

Vegeta's eyes bulged with fury, leaping back up off the bed with such force that the gauzy curtains that hung from the four-poster bed were torn right off the rail. He glared at her with eyes full of accusation, teeth bared and veins standing out on his forehead. He was truly frightening, and for a second Bulma thought she had pushed him too far, but then she girded herself with her anger, ready to fight on.

'This _is_ my home,' he hissed, 'or I thought it was! I thought I was coming home to my woman and my son, but instead I've come home to a viper and her ex-boyfriend whose been lapping it up like a dog in the manger!'

'What do you mean?' she yelled right back at him. 'Yamcha's still my friend. He's not banned from coming around here.'

'He's been trying to claim my son as his own while I've been gone. Taking over my place in this house, in this family!'

'What place, huh? The place you rejected? The one you said was a sentimental weakness before you took off again? If you were so worried about your place, why did you stay away so long? YOU ABANDONED ME! And I had to carry our child and give birth to him ALONE! I was lucky to have a friend like Yamcha! At least I could rely on him to babysit occasionally!'

Vegeta turned red. 'You admit it then? You turned yourself over to that scum, that dog? That's why you can't stand to touch me, isn't it?'

Bulma felt her own face turning red. She didn't think she could get angrier, but she did, her pulse pounding in her ears. 'Are you saying what I think you're saying? Are you accusing me of cheating on you with YAMCHA? How dare you! How could you?'

'Well did you?'

'NO! NO! You fool, of course I didn't! Yamcha and I are _over_ , so, so _over_! And if you never came back it would still be over! Even if I'd given up any faith in you coming back, he'd still be nothing more than a friend.'

'You say that now, but he wants you still.'

'I can't do anything about what Yamcha feels. What is it to you anyway? I mean, _truly_? Is it just that you don't like other people playing with your _toys_?'

Vegeta roared again, leaning over the bed threateningly. 'Do you think me so petty Woman?'

Bulma got to her knees on the bed so that she was almost eye to eye with him. 'Well what am I to think? You don't want anyone having the privileges that should be yours, but you didn't mind neglecting them for more than a year. For Kami's sake, you wouldn't even let me talk to you! I tried to be patient and understand, but…you left me alone for a year! The biggest year of my life! What am I supposed to think about that, huh? Maybe I might be a little bit _angry_?'

Vegeta took a deep breath, calming down somewhat. 'You _know_ what I was doing. You're right, this planet is the only one I have to go to. It's the only place in the universe where anyone who even knows who I am lives now. I don't want a family, but now I've got one. I'm tied to this planet whether I like it or not – a vulnerable lump of fragile rock, so I'm going to do whatever the hell I can to keep it safe. When you've seen as many planets as I have scoured of life, sold and bartered and destroyed, you'll know how hard it is to call any place home.'

Bulma's shoulders slumped. Her anger was melting away into self pity. Her eyes filled with tears, and she knew Vegeta would hate that.

'Woman…' he growled warningly.

'Do you know what it's like? Being the single Mom at the pre-natal class? Going to ultrasound scans by yourself? Having this pregnancy _thing_ happen to you, and the person that put you in this position isn't even there to take the blame? My stomach was so big I couldn't put my own shoes on! I had to have my Mom help me dress like a little kid!' She knew she was whining now, but she wanted him to feel bad.

'No, I don't know. But it's over now Woman. We both came through our trials.'

'But you also missed the best part Vegeta! Trunks coming slithering out and opening his eyes for the first time…it was unbelievable. A tiny new person, half made by you, and you weren't even there to see him born!'

Vegeta made a face of distaste. Apparently he had no answer to this.

Next door the little half-Vegeta was waking up for his midnight snack, making mewling, complainy noises that Bulma knew would soon become out and out bawling if she didn't go feed him soon.

'He's still just an idea to you, isn't he?' she said, climbing off the bed. 'The reality is far, far better.' She sighed. 'And hungrier and noisier and poopier.'

In the nursery she turned the nightlight up a little and fished Trunks out of the crib.

'Hungry, little man?'

The light from the other room was blocked and she turned to see that Vegeta had followed her and was leaning against the door frame, watching her. Instantly she felt awkward. He'd never seen her boobs do _this_ before. Oh well, there was nothing for it. They were all just going to have to get used to this sometime.

She sat in the nursing chair and slipped one shoulder of her nightdress down (it was a nice pale chiffon one that she had carefully selected in case Vegeta had turned up, which he had), pulling it out of the way so that Trunks could get a good grip. She caught some flicker of movement out the corner of her eye at the doorway, but kept her gaze steadfastly on Trunks as he tucked in. She sighed again, relaxing just like the baby did, the small relief of the moment beginning to drain away her anger of a few minutes ago.

'Should I go?' he said from the doorway. Bulma smiled a little at his uncertainly.

'No. No more going. You should stay.'

Trunks's eyes were slipping closed again with contentedness. Bulma's own eyes felt heavy.

'Woman, you're falling asleep sitting up.'

'No, I'm okay.'

'You should go back to bed.'

'But I have to put Trunks back to sleep when he's done.'

Vegeta hesitated. 'I will do it.'

Bulma liked the idea of Vegeta putting his son to bed. 'Okay then.'

The next moment both she and Trunks were scooped up in Vegeta's arms. Trunks merely 'hmm'ed and kept on feeding as Vegeta swept them through to the other room and laid her gently up against the head of the bed. He began to pull his arm away from her shoulders, but she quickly grabbed his hand, and he stayed, settling himself awkwardly beside her. His eyes looked a little wild – she wondered what was going on in his head, because whatever it was it didn't look comfortable. But he stayed. A warm core of emotion ignited inside Bulma's chest. It was little flame of happiness, kindled by hope.

 _Wow_ , she thought to herself. That heavy arm, that hard thigh pressed against hers, it felt good, it felt right. And she could smell him, a smell she'd forgotten until now, but it was good, it stoked the appetite she'd been missing before.

Trunks unlatched himself, his supply all used up. 'All done now baby?' she said, smiling at his sleepy face. Bulma bounced him gently, realising she had left the cloth in the nursery. Luckily she managed to burp him without him spitting up. But then instead of falling at once into a doze like he usually did, he began to mewl again. 'What? Don't tell me you want more? You little greedy guts, it's the middle of the night!'

Vegeta chuckled. 'I didn't think a Saiyan would be satisfied with such a meagre feast.'

'Hmm,' said Bulma beginning to wonder as she switched Trunks to the other breast. She was going to have to start feeding him formula or solids soon – he was maxing out her supply.

When he'd taken everything he could get and been burped again, this time with a nice jet of milky spew that had run down her collarbone and had to be cleaned up with a handkerchief Vegeta found in the bedside table, Trunks relaxed into a milk-doped slumber.

Vegeta sniffed her neck where he'd just cleaned up. 'Messy creature. This explains why your scent has changed so much.'

He took Trunks at arms length, like he was handling a bomb with a dodgy detonator, and floated into the nursery, a neat trick that Bulma was quite jealous of. He was gone a bit longer than he needed to be though. She was just wondering whether she should get up and see what the problem was when he returned. He looked wound up about something.

'What is it?'

He shook his head. 'Woman, I don't know if I can do this.'

Her heart sank. Really, this was what she had feared all along more than anything.

'You doing fine.'

'Don't condescend to me Woman. Being able to put a baby in a crib isn't the problem.'

Bulma bit her lip. She wanted to recapture the happiness of a few minutes ago. 'Come here.'

He did, perching on the edge of the bed, not looking at her. She took one of his hands – strong, with oversize sinew and tendons – and kissed she inside of his palm. He didn't object, so she pulled his hand to the other side of her, making him lean towards her. He still didn't look at her, so she leaned in, putting herself inches from him so he couldn't help but see her. Reluctantly he looked into her eyes, and Bulma felt that little surge of panic she always found so exciting when she looked into the black, cold depths of his eyes. She made the face she practiced in the mirror, making her eyes go wide and soft – practiced vulnerability. Hell, she was vulnerable – faking it up wasn't exactly lying right now. His nostrils twitched, a good sign she thought, as her smell had always used to drive him crazy.

'Can you still do this?' she asked softly and closed the distance ever so slowly to kiss him.

'Hnmm…' he said as she did. She kissed him again, a little firmer, a little more lingeringly. Her nerves returned with a vengeance and her heart started racing, but there was no turning back now. _Please don't push me away, please don't push me away_ , she chanted silently in her head.

She pushed past his lips with her tongue, licking the inside of his lip when she met his bared teeth. She pulled on his chin with her free hand, and he relented, opening up to her. She took advantage, darting her tongue into his mouth, sliding it along his. The effect on Vegeta was as if she'd just felled him like a tree. He fell onto her in slow motion, pushing her down into the pillows. He took a deep breath and kissed her back, harder, with a mounting passion.

'Buuulmaaaa,' he growled softly in admonishment, the vibration of his chest and the rare use of her name melting her like it always used to. 'Aah…'

Like a dry haystack touched with an open flame her smouldering libido erupted into an inferno and suddenly everything was happening very fast. She ran her hands from Vegeta's buttocks to his shoulders, pulling him hard against her and wrapped a leg around his back. He kissed her throat, ran a hand down over her breast and side, then the leg she had around him, straight up her nightdress. There were no panties waiting for him – in the same spirit of optimism and preparedness that had made her don the sexy nightdress she'd also omitted the underwear as she recalled some favourite pairs of knickers that had failed to withstand Vegeta's impatience in the past. He sank straight into the sudden slipperiness there, making her jump.

'Eeep!'

'Ha!' He got to his knees suddenly and pulled her up by her arms, then lifted her nightdress to pull it off her. Bulma flipped it off as fast as she could before Vegeta had a chance to get impatient with the chiffon. As her breasts popped out from under the silk she found Vegeta gazing at them with a peculiarly rigid expression on his face. Oh-no, she thought, but before she had a chance to worry about it he caught her up and pulled her under him, then bent his head to run his face down her chest, sniffing and licking along the way. He took hold of one breast, stroking it, gently rolling the sensitive nipple under his thumb. Oh yes, she had missed this!

He made his way down her abdomen, tickling her along the way with his breath and tongue, until he'd drawn all the way back to the tuft of aqua blue hair above her cleft, then paused, apparently taking in the sights and smells. Bulma grinned at the man who was more into sniffing than kissing, and then forgot all about that as he continued his exploration with his tongue, making her squirm with pleasure. One slow stroke, two, three, four, she was rapidly losing it…

'No, wait Vegeta.'

'What?' he said hoarsely.

She reached out, her hands were trembling now, and pulled on his shoulders, pulling him up, then pulled the straps of his singlet up over his head. He got the picture, holding his arms out so it slipped off, but Bulma was already sitting up trying to tug down the boxers one handed. When they were off too, flung haphazardly to join the nightdress on the floor somewhere, Bulma reached out and pulled him down on top of her, legs wide open, desperate to feel his weight on top of her, his hardness inside her and all around her.

'Just get inside me already!'

He didn't need telling twice, slipping home with a shock of sensation that made them both gasp. Moving together, sliding together, it was only a couple of slow strokes before neither one of them was capable of taking it slowly. Bulma, with a handful of one of his tight buttocks to pull him deeper, Vegeta, bucking between her legs, and both of them moaning with each movement, they sprinted towards climax that broke over Bulma first then overtook Vegeta, his face buried in the crook of her neck.

 _Yes_ , thought Bulma, _this is right, this is what I want!_

Vegeta collapsed bonelessly on top of her. He was damn heavy; she wouldn't be able to tolerate it for long, but she wasn't suffocating yet, and for now she was enjoying the hot, sweaty, male mass of him. She traced the column of muscle either side of his spine and his deltoids. His muscles were dense and defined even in relaxation. How many other women could say they had a man like this? None, that's how many. Vegeta was one of a kind, and he was hers.

Vegeta raised his head. He looked down at her with an expression that was almost not a frown, which she took to mean that he was happy.

'Yes, it appears that I _can_ still do that.' He rubbed his face in her hair then, inhaling deepy, then rolling the both of them over easily so that Bulma was left draped on top him. He twitched the comforter to cover them, more or less. 'Sleep,' he said, softly, and tapped the bedside light off. Bulma thought there was no chance of sleeping with her heart so full of happiness, but pretty soon she was out like the light.

She woke sometime later, and for a few seconds couldn't figure out why. Then she saw Vegeta standing in front of the window, staring out with his back to her and she remembered that he was supposed to be in bed with her. She closed her eyes and waited for him to return and as the minutes passed she started to drift off again. A movement stirred her to half open one eye and see that he was now standing over the bed looking down at her. She closed the eye again and waited for him to get back in bed, but then she heard him walk away, cross the room, pick up his shorts and singlet off the floor and slip out the door, as quiet as a ghost. She woke up properly now, sitting up in bed and looking around in case she'd been mistaken, listening for any clue to what he was doing. 'He could just be going to the bathroom' she told herself. But really she knew that he was gone for the night. She had no reason to expect more than that. When they had been together in the past he had rarely hung around post-coitus. Vegeta, he was never one for cuddles and sweet nothings, and she'd been okay with that. But tonight it upset her.

'He is what he is,' she said aloud. But she was beginning to wonder, was she who she had always been?


	7. Rollercoaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors note: I realise this story is going to require a little commitment from my readers, but if you like the writing, have faith that some big twists are coming. I haven't hit the gas yet.

Bulma turned to her sixteen year old Trunks, hand over her mouth to cover the twisting of her mouth, it's bitter line.

'I guess, you could say that the month after he returned was a bit of a rollercoaster ride.'

'What's a rollercoaster?'

'It's a – oh never mind! Things went up and down with your father. It didn't start off too bad. But he was at a loss, being back on earth after so long. He didn't know what to do with himself.' She laughed, as a memory tickled her. 'Being a hands-on Dad certainly didn't suit him! You know that picture I have of him and you? At the street parade? What a farce of a day.'

'The one where he's holding me in one arm and an ice cream in the other?'

'That's the one. He didn't get the parade at all, or the rides, or candy floss, and he was so cantankerous he managed to goad a stranger into taking a swing at him. I thought he was going to get arrested, or more likely kill a cop whilst resisting arrest.' That photo was one of her favourites – Vegeta's murderous glare at the camera contrasted with the puzzled face of baby Trunks and maple walnut ripple in a cone. It was one of a small collection of family photographs she'd retrieved from the rubble of the house.

'He took off for a week at one point. Just said he was going to find Piccolo and left. Didn't say anything about why he'd gone or what he'd been doing when he came back. He'd barely talk to me at all. He supervised the refit of the spaceship himself and I let him have at it. He started avoiding meal times with the rest of the family. It was eating me up inside, so I decided that I would try and find Piccolo myself, to find out what they had talked about. I called Gohan.'

Trunks perked up at the name of his friend. 'Because Piccolo was Gohan's friend?'

'Yes, he was the only person I knew who knew how to find him. Chichi overheard though. I'm afraid Gohan lied and said that I wanted to find Piccolo because I was arranging a party at Kame House. She called Krillin and asked him if he was going too, and suddenly I found myself arranging a party.'

'Did my father go?'

Bulma snorted. 'Unbelievably, yes. I realised that it was probably time to introduce you to my friends anyway. I'd kept you and Vegeta secret for far too long. He didn't fight the idea as much as I thought he would.'

'Was Yamcha there?' asked Trunks.

'Oh yes! I warned them both that the other might be there. Vegeta agreed that as Turtle Island was neutral territory he would not kill Yamcha on sight if he turned up. I was still surprised Yamcha came though. Maybe he thought Vegeta wouldn't show, but he told me that he wasn't going to let Vegeta think he was scared of him, though I think it was fairly obvious that he _was_ scared. Anyway, _you_ were the star of the party! Krillin and Gohan just couldn't believe it when they found out who your father was.' She smiled at the memory. Gohan and Chichi had arrived on Flying Nimbus, amazing considering Chichi was a woman in her thirties – at sixteen Bulma's heart had already been too corrupted for the cloud to hold her.

* * *

Gohan and his mother sprung nimbly from the little cloud onto the beach and joined the scrum around Bulma; Tien, Launch, Chao-Tsu, Roshi, and Krillin crowded around admiring the baby, with Yamcha and Piccolo standing a little apart. Vegeta kept well away, staring out to sea, but listening hard no doubt.

'Bulma, is this _your_ baby?' asked Gohan wonderingly.

'Yes, he's my little boy Trunks.'

'Ah,' Krillin rubbed his head in embarrassment. 'Hey Bulma, maybe this is an obvious question, but who's the father?'

Bulma hesitated, winding herself up to make her revelation. She grinned.

'He must be Yamcha's son!' said Gohan confidently, laughing, unaware how wrong he was.

'He's not _my_ kid!' said Yamcha angrily, folding his arms in contempt for the idea. There was a collective gasp from everyone not in the know.

'But then who…?' asked Krillin.

'Oh come on!' scolded Chichi. 'It's obvious! This is Vegeta's son.'

'No way!' said Gohan.

'Who have you been talking to?' Bulma asked Chichi, annoyed at her thunder being stolen.

'No one at all. Am I right?'

'Is this true?' asked Master Roshi in tones of disbelief.

'Yes.'

There was another stunned intake of breath all round. From the water's edge she heard Vegeta chuckle.

'Well…that's unexpected,' said Master Roshi.

'What the hell has been going on at the Brief's household?' said Krillin to himself. Yamcha looked highly offended. This was surely a humiliating moment for him.

'I thought I already taught you about men and women Krillin,' said Roshi, 'but if you need a refresher I've got some videos in the lounge…'

She never found the time at the party to talk to Piccolo alone. They'd had their BBQ and beers, swum in the sea, sunbathed. She was pleased that at different times Tien and Roshi managed to strike up a conversation with Vegeta. She was amused to see that Roshi was teaching Vegeta his signature move, the Kamehameha wave.

'No, not like that! There's more to it that just pouring energy out of yourself!'

She did though manage to corner Chichi in the kitchen when they went in to get more drinks.

'What made you think that it was obvious that Vegeta is Trunk's father?' She couldn't help the slight tone of accusation in the question. She was still put out that her grand revelation had been guessed so easily.

'Other than the fact that Trunks looks like his Dad? Or that Vegeta lives in your house? Or that Yamcha looks as sorry as a cat left out in the rain all night?'

Bulma crossed her arms. 'Yes, other than those facts.'

Chichi looked as if she was considering the question, and then shrugged and said flippantly 'Only the best for Bulma Briefs!'

'What's _that_ supposed to mean?'

'That I guess it's only natural that the Princess should choose the Prince.'

Bulma narrowed her eyes. 'Actually I believe that _you_ are the only princess present in this room.'

'Oh come on! Which on of us lives in a palace?'

Bulma couldn't deny that one. 'Well, you got one thing right, he _is_ the best.'

'Yes, _now_ he is,' said Chichi, her face going curiously neutral. She suddenly turned away, and walked out into the sunshine, holding the bottle of soda. Bulma felt her own spirits lower at the near-mention of the absent Goku.

Still, it had all gone better than she could have hoped, and Vegeta even accompanied her home in the hoverjet instead of flying ahead of her like he had on the way to the party. The fireworks didn't start until about halfway home when the odours escaping Trunks's diaper invaded their nostrils.

'Holy Kami, that child is stinking!' complained Vegeta.

Bulma held her nose, steering one handed. 'It's not his fault, he's not used to solid food yet.' Soon the baby began to be aware of his discomfort and started to wail.

'I can't take this sound and smell at the same time. Can't you clean him up Woman?'

'In the hoverjet? We're only fifteen minutes from home. I'll change him there.'

Vegeta picked Trunks up from the cocoon and held him at arms length.

'Shut up child, there are a lot worse things out there than a hot, sticky diaper.'

Trunks paused in confusion, and then cried harder.

'Urgh, Woman, it's leaking! Surely you should change him?'

'If it's leaked it too late already. Just be patient.'

'I might have to fly the rest of the way, I can't stand this racket.'

'If it bothers you so much why don't you change him?'

'I don't know how! That's your job.'

'You've seen me do it - it's not rocket science. I happen to be a rocket scientist, so I should know.'

Vegeta growled in exasperation, but surprisingly went into the small back space of the hoverjet and began to rummage round in the bag of baby supplies. Bulma didn't turn around, but tried to surreptitiously watch him in the reflection on the windscreen.

'King Cold's balls, what the hell is this? The child is obviously ill Woman.'

'Really?' she said, and was suddenly presented with a full, slimy, pooey diaper right under her nose.

'Urh! Vegeta, what are you playing at? I can't breathe! It looks normal, get it out of my face!'

Vegeta whipped the side light window open and hiffed it out.

'Not out the window! Imagine that thing landing in someone's back yard, or on their head!'

'Better them than me,' he replied, now gathering an over-cautious handful of wet wipes to clean up Trunks. After a few seconds he said 'Don't you think it's irresponsible to have left the child's tail intact this long?'

'Well, I'm going to get it removed one day. It's so cute, and I didn't want to put him through surgery yet. I've been careful not to let him see the full moon. He's never out of the nursery at night anyway.' They had used the dragonballs to restore the moon nearly two years ago. It was a gift to the world, Piccolo's idea, and a fun little mission for her and Gohan and Krillin.

'He's out of the nursery tonight, and the moon is coming up right now, so you're obviously not _that_ careful.'

With a jolt of panic Bulma realised he was right. 'It's okay, just pull the blinds in the back there. Or better yet, put one of those diaper cloths over the top of his cocoon when you're done.'

She listened to Vegeta's sounds of disgust as he cleaned up, and Trunks's slightly confused, complaining cry. Suddenly Trunks's crying stopped, but the next second he let out an ear-piercing shriek of real pain.

'What?' said Bulma, turning in her seat to see what was going on, but Vegeta was in the way, leaning forward and flinging something else out the window – something about the same size and colour as a cooked chipolata. 'What the hell! Did you just pull our son's tail off?'

She pushed past him in her haste to get to Trunks, abandoning the hoverjet controls. He was lying face down on the change mat screaming his little heart out, a red wound at the base of his spine oozing just a bit of blood.

'Oh Trunks! I'm so sorry, poor baby!' She picked him up, and lay him along one arm, face down, then reached for the first aid capsule under the seat in front with her other.

'You absolute psycho!' she screamed at Vegeta, who had now settled back into the front passenger seat. 'Good God, what the hell were you thinking, pulling our son's tail off just like that?'

'It had to happen sooner or later, and better sooner, before he had a chance to miss it. Or destroy the house and wreck the city.'

'Of course it had to go sometime! But it certainly didn't need to be tonight, right now! And _pulling_ it off? Are you so savage and brutal? Surgery Vegeta, anaesthetic! Why would you want your son to suffer like this?'

'He's a baby Bulma!' he said angrily. 'He won't remember this at all. And if he did, what's the worry? His life's going to be full of pain.'

'No, it won't!'

'You can predict his future?'

'No, but neither can you!'

'I was just stating fact. No life is lived without pain.'

'Well my son isn't going to feel any more pain than he has to!'

Vegeta snorted. 'You'll raise him soft.'

She found a syringe of local anaesthetic in the first aid kit and cringed while she injected Trunks just above the wound. The proximity alert started buzzing on the dashboard.

'Just land the damn hoverjet Vegeta!'

Vegeta landed hard, on purpose she thought, and as soon as the they were at a stop she was out the door, Trunks still draped over one arm and the first aid kit in the other. She decided she probably didn't need the med lab facilities, the first aid kit had everything she needed, so she took him straight upstairs to the nursery, and laid him down on the changing table up there. He was still crying a little, but not as hard. She pulled the overhead lamp down to give her enough light to clean the wound up and then put stitches in. Trunks didn't like getting the stitches very much, even with the anaesthetic. Then she dressed the site and delicately put a diaper on him. Trunks was quiet now, but he looked up at her from his prone position on the changing table with one blue eye full of tears and accusation.

'Woman,' said a Vegeta's voice from the corridor doorway.

She jumped. How long had he been standing there? She decided she didn't care.

'Just go away Vegeta.'

'I didn't mean the child harm, you know that.'

'You have a pretty funny way of showing it.'

'He'll come to no harm from that wound.'

'No thanks to you.'

'Then you know you're being irrational.'

She rounded on him, crossing the room, seeing red with anger. ' _You_ are the crazy one, not me!' He stepped back away from her and she grasped the door handle, wanting to slam it, but mindful of Trunks. 'Go away Vegeta, I don't want to talk to you!' And she closed the door in his face.


	8. The Falling Out

Sixteen year old Trunks rubbed the small of his back where a tiny scar lingered still.

'He did that?' He smiled. 'Kind of like how Piccolo pulled Gohan's tail off!'

'Gohan's grew back you know. When Nappa and Vegeta came to Earth to seize the dragonballs it's what nearly killed Vegeta. Gohan transformed into the giant monkey, and Vegeta chopped his tail off. Gohan landed on top of him.'

'Oh yeah!' Trunks didn't seem disturbed at all by the thought of his tail being yanked off. 'But he was right – I was fine.'

'Don't you go defending your father!' said Bulma. Still, after all that had passed since that day, the argument and the outrage seemed silly.

'Was that what ruined things between you then? That argument?'

'No. Not really. I'd have forgiven him eventually. But I didn't see him for two days after that. At first I was glad, but then I got worried. I tell you what made me think we really weren't going to make it. The morning of the day the androids revealed themselves I was down here in my office, and he came down to tell me that the spaceship was fixed up and restocked, and he wanted me to check it before he left again.'

* * *

'Again?' Bulma sat bolt upright, completely blindsided. She felt something inside her break apart. Just something small, something she hadn't known was there, but now depression poured in through the crack it made. 'But you just got back. How long are you going for this time?'

'I don't know.'

'Why?'

He looked down at her sitting at her desk. He was wearing one of his blue jumpsuits and his armour. He had his arms crossed, steely cold frown in place. She knew that look by now. It meant that he was determined not to give away what he was feeling.

'You told me to go away. I agree. It's the best way.'

'No! That's not what I meant! I just meant get out of my sight while I was so angry with you.'

'So I could come back begging for forgiveness? I'm not like your idiot boyfriend Woman.'

'Ex-boyfriend.' They stared at each other, Bulma's heart getting heavier and heavier with the sadness pouring in. What could she do to stop him?

'I can't live here, not according to the rules and expectations you have. I am what I am.'

'You are what you are,' she agreed.

'A Saiyan Prince and a Warrior. Not a mate, not a father.'

'But you can be all those things at once!'

'No.'

'Yes!' she swallowed her pride as much as she was able. 'Stay! I want you to stay. I forgive you. I already had, you didn't need to beg.'

'You say that now, we both know that's not how it'll be.' Bulma had to acknowledge to herself that he was probably right, but she wasn't going to admit it to him. 'You're not the person you were before Trunks was born. It's not your fault, I guess. You're a mother now.'

Ooh, she felt that one. Low blow. The sadness was hitting her stomach now, turning to anger.

'Will you ever come back?'

'I don't know.'

She felt like she was being dashed to pieces against the jet blackness of his heart. She put her head in her hands. The tide of depression was filling her head, the anger blossoming through it, the black and the red swirling together, weighing her down. Was she a fool for expecting it would amount to more than this? Disappointed didn't cover it. She'd played a game with Vegeta and lost out bigger than she'd ever thought possible.

'I guess that was all bullshit about wanting to protect your family and the Earth then?'

'Having a family is an indulgence that holds back a true warrior. If the Earth is in danger, drop me a line, I'll see what I can do..'

'Go then.'

There was silence. Eventually Vegeta asked 'Will you check the ship?'

'Get my father to check the ship. Our ship. The ship that he and I made together. Take it and go.'

There was another long pause, and then she felt him move closer to her.

'Bulma,' he said softly.

She whipped her head up and slammed her fist down on the desk. 'DON'T "Bulma" me!'

Vegeta looked down at her, stern and unflustered in the face of her temper.

'I am sorry though. Sorry things didn't work out the way you wanted.'

'Not enough to stay though.' He didn't deny it, so she went on. 'It's not like I was asking much. Just for you to be here, that's _all_.' She glared at him, and he glared right back, arms folded, but she could see a crack in his composure – his frown wasn't so cold and controlled - he was getting angry. Well good!

'Why are you still standing there? Go, if you're going!'

'Woman, don't take it out on me.'

'Then who else? I know I made a mistake falling for you! Letting myself get pregnant with a man like you, but it's still you that's letting me down.'

'I didn't promise you anything!'

Bulma slammed her fist into the desk again, 'I KNOW! So run away then, coward!'

'Coward?' He looked properly angry now. 'And what am I afraid of? A squalling babe? A screeching harpy woman?'

'Yes, that's exactly what you're afraid of!'

'Wrong! I'm afraid of what you'll make me! That you'll drag me down to your level with the sentimental weakness that seems to be the curse of your race! To live like this I have to stop being who I am, and I refuse! I've not spent my life becoming the galaxy's greatest warrior only to have it undone by a woman!'

Bulma stood up in the face of his outburst, then let fly herself.

'All right, you've made your point! Get out, and don't bother coming back. You might not like what you find if you do.' For a second he was aghast, and she realised with satisfaction that he was still jealous. 'See, you don't like that thought do you? You can't have it both ways Vegeta. If you're leaving I'm not going to live like a nun just in case you decide to come back.'

His face curled up into a snarl and he took a step towards her, till he was really in her space. He looked like he was having difficulty breathing.'That weakling scum wouldn't dare! And you said it was over forever between you!'

'Yamcha's not the only other man in this world. There are plenty of others I could have. Millions.'

'No!' he said.

'No? Admit it - you already have feelings for me, it's too late.'

His face trembled with the effort of holding his rage down. 'This is the distraction, that is all. I should destroy you and the planet…that would prevent me from ever falling to that weakness. It's a mark of how much you've weakened me already that I can't bring myself to do it.'

Bulma froze at this unexpected piece of news. Surely he wasn't serious? He stared into her eyes, second by second calming, mastering, regretful; apparently regretful that he couldn't bring himself to murder her and their child and the entire planet. His mouth was open, his breath tickled her nose. She couldn't even decide what to feel. Horror?

His nostrils flared and he leaned in closer. 'I can't stand the thought of you with anyone else; it makes my blood boil! And it makes me a fool and a waste of a warrior.' He put his hand to her hair, stroking it. She was very conscious that he was blocking her way out of the office. 'I will miss you, for a little while at least.'

'Wow, I'm honoured!' she snapped, but her knees were trembling. 'I'm sure glad you like me this much or I guess I'd be dead.'

He grinned, mockingly.

'Now if you don't mind…' She indicated the door with a nod. He didn't turn. She pushed against his chest and he rocked backwards. She took a half step forwards, but then he rocked right back so that they now bumped chests.

'You won't miss me also?' he asked.

'After what you just told me, I'm not so sure I will.'

He laughed, like it was a joke. 'I can't hurt you Woman, don't worry. Even just standing near you like this…I just want to lay everything down.' He looked at her, his gaze smouldering now, and despite everything she felt a flush of anticipation colour her cheeks.

'Do it,' she said thickly. 'Lay everything down. You have no idea how backwards you have everything. It won't destroy you - it will make you whole.'

He closed his eyes and sneered. 'Your temptations won't work on me. _You_ are the one that's wrong! Fools like Kakarott take the easy path.'

Bulma frowned at the contradictions in what he was saying and doing. He was really very conflicted about this; maybe the situation was more on a knife edge than he was letting on? Could she pull him back on her side after all? Putting aside his regret at not being able to go through with genocide? No, he couldn't have really meant that! She didn't believe him.

When he opened his eyes he looked confused for an instant before Bulma's lips connected with his.

'Mmm!'

The room tilted for Bulma as Vegeta grabbed her, crushing her against him, kissing her back greedily, swaying himself. He lifted her and plopped her bottom down on her desk, leant in for more, and without her asking them to, her legs opened to let him get closer. He pushed her back on the desk, scattering papers and tidy-alls. He breathed in the scent of the crook of her neck deeply, like a starving man outside a kitchen window, then licked her from clavicle to chin. Bulma broke out in goosebumps at the sensation, gasping involuntarily.

'So…good…' muttered Vegeta.

'What were you saying,' said Bulma, trying not to sound too triumphant, 'about my temptations?'

'They...won't...work.'

She wrapped an arm round his neck and returned the favour, licking, then gently biting his neck. She knew he liked that, and was rewarded with a moan. He kissed her erratically, one hand under her lab coat playing with her breast, the other grasping her rump. She ran her hands over his back and chest, but his armour was in the way.

'Vegeta, take this off!' she said, pushing him away. He stood up, and very quickly had both the armour and his gloves off. She got up off the desk to deal with her own wardrobe, but apparently this wasn't fast enough for Vegeta and with one tug at the back of her open lab coat he had it off of her. She pushed herself into his arms, pushing him backwards to the couch opposite the desk, knocking him over onto it when the back of his legs hit the seat. She ran her hands up his muscular thighs, cupping his junk that was now rock solid and clearly visible, trapped inside his jumpsuit. Then she straddled him, and wriggled up his body, making sure to rub up against him as much as possible. Her hands continued up his abdomen, chest and then with one hand on his neck she kissed him deeply, thoroughly, making it absolutely clear that _she_ was kissing _him_.

When she broke this kiss she sat up, considering her next move.

'What are you playing at Woman?' Vegeta growled. He seemed to have guessed he was being manipulated. Without answering she pulled her tank top up over her head and threw it on the floor. She smiled as Vegeta sat up and wrapped his arms around her back and buried his face in her cleavage. How ironic that she was attempting to convince him she was not merely a distraction, by distracting him.

The smile was wiped off her face when he bit her nipple gently through the lace of her bra.

'Ridiculous breast confinement!' he muttered. 'Always in my way!'

She thought she was about to lose another item of clothing to his impatience, but this time he managed the clasp and pulled the straps down her shoulders with a smirk of triumph. As her breasts bobbled free he took one in each hand, stroking up and down over the nipples, making her feel pretty distracted herself. He pulled her hard down into his lap, licking and biting her neck again, making her squirm more. Bulma reached round behind him and undid the zipper of his jumpsuit and ran her hands over the scarred muscles of his back.

'Take this off,' she said, pulling on the blue fabric impatiently.

He stood up, carrying her with him, then letting her slide to the floor. While he whipped off his suit and boots, she took off her own sneakers and shorts and knickers. When he pulled his own black underwear off Bulma found herself eye to eye with an opportunity she wouldn't pass up.

'Urraah!' he gasped as she took him into her mouth. She cupped his balls in one hand; they were as tight as a couple of unripe plums. Yes, he wanted this badly, as bad as she did. He made inarticulate sounds of appreciation as she used her hand, mouth and tongue to push him closer to the edge. She was good at this. Or she thought she was – she'd never had any complaints at least.

Bulma stifled a laugh at her next thought – she literally had the strongest man in the galaxy by the balls. Too bad she didn't have him by the metaphorical balls too.

'Get up here Woman,' Vegeta said, pulling her up by her arms and leaning in for a lust-drunk kiss. Bulma was overwhelmed by his urgency; if she didn't know Vegeta better she'd have sworn blind that he was a man desperately in love. She opened her eyes to see Vegeta looking back at her, his agate eyes clouded, confused. She felt herself losing control of the situation and herself.

They tumbled onto the couch again, making the frame squeak in protest. She was in his lap, he was stroking her slippery underside, stroking her breast over and over; it was too much. She knocked his hand away, straddled him and sank down upon him, slowly, feeling each inch of their coming together with exquisite sensitivity.

'Ahhh!' she gasped, not meaning too. Vegeta's eyes were burning into her and his mouth was hanging open. He was either enjoying it as much as she was, or scared. Probably enjoying it.

She started a slow rhythm, and she could tell Vegeta was holding back, wanting to go faster, but he stuck to it, and it felt so good soon they were both moaning with each wet and aching downstroke, sensation building slowly until it far too powerful for control and they let loose, coming together wild and fast. He kissed her again, brief and biting, his eyes locked on hers, and Bulma felt like the boundaries between them were dissolving; he was in her, and he was her, and she was him. Together. They didn't need words at that moment to know what the other was feeling.

It was just a few moments and then even these half-formed thoughts were banished from her mind by an orgasm that washed through her like a wave then seemed to catch Vegeta in it's wake and take him too, pulling them both down and drowning them in groaning pleasure.

Pressed forehead to forehead, nose to nose with Vegeta, Bulma thought she'd never left so at peace with the man, it had never felt _so_ right before, and ironically, this might be the last time. Had she imagined the wordless connection they had made? 'Oh God,' she thought, closing her eyes against his to shut out the realisation. 'I'm in love with him, aren't I?'

He stroked a hand down her hair and back, and to her surprise he kissed her again. She kissed him back, grateful, wanting this moment to go on and on. This was it really; all her cards were on the table, time to see how well she'd played her hand. When the kiss ended she looked into his eyes again. He looked to her dazed or overwhelmed. A good sign maybe?

'Stay,' she said.

Vegeta's face closed into a frown, but not his normal one – his brows trembled, as if two strong emotions were battling to express themselves. His whole body tensed up, he held his breath. Not a good sign then?

He let his breath out sharply. 'No,' he said hoarsely, and looked away, past her shoulder.

Crap. But she could tell he was conflicted. Trying not to cry herself, she said 'But you don't even want to go. Don't you deserve a rest? Some happiness?' He continued to look away. She bit her lip. 'Don't we deserve each other?'

Vegeta laughed without much mirth. 'Perverse earthling Woman.'

'What?'

'I don't think you deserve me.'

'You don't think I'm good enough for you?' Her voice sliced up several notches of pitch and volume. She sat back from him, realising that sitting naked in his lap was not the ideal place to deal with another blow of disappointment from him, but before she could move he picked her up as if she weighed no more than a life-size polystyrene cut out and put her on her feet.

She turned away to the box of Kleenex on her desk and grabbed a handful to clean herself up with, and trying to get her face under control at the same time. She should have known that all this encounter would achieve would be another opportunity for him to wound her heart and ego. Oh, and more unprotected sex – if she was unlucky she would wind up pregnant again, and that's all she needed – not one, but two children by an absentee deadbeat father.

'So, the heiress to the largest company on the planet, one of the two most brilliant scientific minds ever born on this planet, and not to mention, one of the most lovely creatures you will ever encounter on Earth, is not good enough for _you_ Prince of all three Saiyans?'

He laughed again, getting up and reaching for his underwear. 'That's not what I meant.'

'Huh? You mean that you are not good enough for me?'

'No.'

'Wh-'

Just then there was a knock on the door.

'Miss Briefs?'

It was the voice of Malcolm, one of the lab assistants. 'Don't come in! I'm, I'm really busy!' Bulma yelled, scrabbling on the floor for her underwear.

'But I've got the delivery of components and the next-gen antiviral samples you said were urgent.'

'Didn't you hear the woman?' yelled Vegeta. 'Get lost worm!'

There was the sound of a small scale panic outside and then the slapping of Malcolm's loafers as he ran at full tilt down the corridor. Like all the Capsule Corp employees he was mortally afraid of Vegeta.

'Slick Vegeta. I was trying not to give the impression I'd just had a mid afternoon quickie on the sofa.'

'What do you care what your underlings think?' he said, smirking while he put one leg in his jumpsuit and then the other. Then his face turned stony. Bulma wondered what he was thinking – maybe the same as what she was? This could be the last time either of them had any kind of sex together.

'You do deserve me,' she said.

Vegeta grimaced and turned a mocking smile on her. 'You're a naive girl who grew up on a peace-loving, soft-bellied planet. I'm a warrior. I've lived my whole life in the arena of life and death conflict. When I first heard of Earth my only thought was that it would be easy pickings. Would you like to take a guess at how many lives I have taken? I can't, not at all. It must be many billions, but as I never bothered to find out the populations of the cities or planets before I eradicated them, there's no way of knowing. How many of those were innocent lives, maybe pretty women like yourself, completely defenceless? Or children, babies like Trunks? Probably a lot, right? I didn't think about it, I just did it.'

Bulma blanched, pausing in the act of pulling up her shorts.

'But you're not like that now.'

'Aren't I?'

'But you wouldn't do that now. You know it was wrong now, don't you?'

Vegeta's look was dark and full of hatred, but he wasn't looking at her, he was staring at something only he could see. 'Yes!' he said, spitting the word out like it hurt him. 'I can't stop thinking about it, thanks to you and this soft life! I am not who you think me to be, and I never will be, despite all your interfering, you insufferable woman! I won't stay here so you can continue to make me feel this way.'

There was another knock on the door.

'Miss Briefs?'

'Malcolm, what did I just say? Leave the samples in the lab,' she said, hurrying to pull her bra on.

'I'm sorry Miss Briefs, but it's Mr Yamcha. He's looking for you and Mr Vegeta.'

'What?' said Bulma and Vegeta in unison.

'We'll be right out!'

'He's already here, and he's quite insistent. Wait, you can't go in – '

Malcolm was cut short and the door was ripped open by Yamcha.

'Woah,' he said, taking in the scene of Vegeta pulling on his jumpsuit and Bulma topless and trying to hide herself behind her tank top.

'What did I tell you MAGGOT?' roared Vegeta.

Yamcha shook himself out of his surprise and said 'No time for that Vegeta, haven't you two been watching the news?'

'What do I care for the worthless news of the Earth?'

'Wait, what is it Yamcha?' interrupted Bulma. Only something of vital importance would have brought Yamcha within arm's reach of Vegeta.

'Two cities have been almost levelled today, get this, by two teenagers!'

'Humans?' asked Vegeta, disbelievingly.

'Probably not. They landed to pose for a news crew. They had Red Ribbon logos on their clothes.'

'What? But I thought Goku wiped out the Red Ribbon army!' said Bulma. How could this horror have returned from the past again? 'They're androids,' she said to Vegeta.

'Krillin is on his way now, and Gohan and Piccolo. We haven't been able to get hold of Tien,' explained Yamcha. 'Come with us Vegeta. You too Bulma – maybe your knowledge of machines will help us track them. They have no energy signature like flesh and blood fighters.'

'If I come I doubt they'll be much for any of the rest of you to do,' said Vegeta, grinning nastily. He pulled his armour on. 'But I'll put on a good show for you to watch.'

They took off like bolts down the corridor, and Bulma hurried after, pulling on her sneakers, passing the trembling, white faced Malcolm still clutching the tray of antivirals and the box of iridium components.

* * *

Bulma's eyes flew wide open as the detail of that memory hit her. She'd had a shipment of iridium components delivered that day! Malcolm had probably left them in her office – they were probably still in there right now!

'Trunks! I've just remembered something! There are components I need in my old office. It's probably buried under tons of rubble and dirt, but if we can find them…'

The corridor down to the offices was blocked with fallen ceiling panels, broken polycrete slabs and dirt. She'd never bothered to clear it because until now there hadn't seemed anything worth retrieving down there.

'Sure Mom, I'll get right onto it,' said Trunks and began hauling the rubble into the centre of the room. Before long he'd cleared a gap along the side of the wall that was large enough to stick his head and shoulders through.

'Hey, it's clear through here! It's only the entrance of the corridor that's crushed.'


	9. Shortcut

Bulma held the lantern in front of her and led the way down the rubble strewn and dusty corridor, Trunks right at her shoulder ready to protect her from anything. She opened her office door, and without thinking about it, as if there hadn't been a fifteen year gap since last time she'd been here, she reached round the door and flipped on the solar powered ceiling panel. To her surprise, and Trunks's fright, the panel actually came on, spilling its sunshine hued light over her office.

'Well, I'll be damned! The light's still working. I guess that means the solar collectors and wires and capacitators are all online still.'

The office looked just the same. In fact, it was bending her mind – there was only the finest layer of dust to make it seem any different from when she'd run out of it pulling her sneakers on. There was her desk, and on it a little metal travel case and a medium sized cardboard box. Antiviral and iridium.

Her breath caught in her throat. There, laying on the sofa, and another one the floor, were Vegeta's gloves. Here, here was proof that that afternoon had happened. She knew it had happened, but still, that last day had taken on a dreamlike quality, a haziness from being replayed in her mind so often. Vegeta had left so fast he'd forgotten his gloves. He had been quite annoyed. A day later he had been quite dead.

'What's wrong Mom?' asked Trunks.

'Nothing,' she said crossing the room and bending to pick the gloves up. 'Nothing at all.' Crouched on the ground she could see the trash can with it's load of dirty Kleenex. Yep, that was evidence too, but she wasn't about to claim it was a keepsake.

She stuffed the gloves in her pocket and opened the cardboard box on the desk. Bingo! What a stroke of luck! She couldn't have asked for a better selection of iridium parts! Next she opened the metal case. The antiviral looked okay, but there was no way of knowing. It hadn't been carefully encapsulated like her other antiviral supplies. Still, it was worth pocketing for the day when the old supplies were totally exhausted.

She looked around the room.

'What a difference proper light makes! Maybe I should take this lighting system back with us. Or maybe…'

'What?'

'I wonder what else is still working around here? And how much it would take to get the broken stuff back online? I mean, in fifteen years the androids haven't found this place – why not go all out, move back here to the Capsule Corp and use the lab to build the time machine in! It would be so much easier!'

'Really? Live here?'

'You were born on these grounds Trunks. So was I. Your grandfather built this place.' She smiled and squeezed the gloves in her pocket. It seemed like a good omen. It seemed like it was meant to be. Of course, why had she been wasting time trying to construct the time machine in little hideouts? This is where it was _meant_ to happen.

What else was in the office they could use?

She opened the tall cupboard next to the desk and immediately jumped back in alarm. A middle aged woman with frizzy hair, dry skin and an ugly denim shirt looked back at her.

'Oh crap!' she said, realising in the same moment that it was just her reflection from the mirror she kept hanging in the back of the cupboard. When did she get so old? Hell, maybe she should invest a little bit of time into formulating some decent hair care and skin products around the time machine project. The Bulma who last stood in this office wouldn't have been caught dead wearing such a shapeless shirt or carelessly pulled back hair, not even to rummage through a deserted lab for supplies. How things change.

'It's just your reflection Mom!' said Trunks, smiling at his own young face.

'Yes, I know!' she said hotly.

There were a few clothes in there, and a number of white lab coats. Good to know. They could stay there while she came up with a plan to get the lab running again. On the shelf under the mirror though were two items wrapped in plastic. Bulma pulled them out and faintly recognised them as sample jackets from the Capsule Corp merchandising department. One was a small blue one, one was a purple medium. She'd never got round to opening them.

'Check this out Trunks!' She passed him the purple one and ripped through the plastic of the blue one. Oh, nice. High, stand up collar, short cut. She slipped it on. Reasonable fit. And it was about fifty times cooler than anything left in her wardrobe.

'Wow, awesome Mom!' Trunks admired her and pulled his on. Bulma immediately felt a mistiness come into her eyes.

'My, don't you look handsome! That jacket fits perfectly.'

Trunks was grinning. 'It looks pretty good huh?'

'Yes. Now you've got a Capsule Corp logo on you for when you paste those Red Ribbon buckets of bolts.' This was how Trunks was meant to look – branded in the company logo, fashionable, the future president of Capsule Corporation. Not how it turned out.

Trunks's innocent grin suddenly disappeared from his face, his eyes staring off at nothing.

'What is that?' he said.

'What's what?' whispered Bulma, alarmed. 'Is it the Androids? Have they followed us here?'

'No.' Trunks looked at her, and though he looked concerned he also looked amazed. 'An energy level. But big, like Gohan's. It's just turned up out of the blue.'

Bulma tried to use her dull sense of chi, and she couldn't sense anything. It could be anyone, any _thing_ , up there.

'Who could it be?' said Trunks. He was looking hopeful.

'Trunks! It could be anything and anyone! They might not even be from Earth. We have to be careful.'

'Oh! Of course.'

Her legs felt watery. Oh God, what now? Were these demonic androids not enough? 'I guess we should go see who it is then.'

They crept back through the lab. Bulma extinguished the hurricane lamp and then the two of them ever so carefully crept up the stairs and peered out through the rubble. They couldn't see anything at first. Trunks indicated that whoever it was was to their left, out of sight behind some broken polycrete slabs. Trembling, Bulma crept after her son as he led the way on hands and knees till he could see. He stopped suddenly, and coming along side him she saw a something that made her eyes bulge with surprise – a vision she'd seen only in her imagination; a pod shaped like an egg with a glass top, sitting atop five thin legs like tapered needles – her time machine was landing on the wilderness that used to be her mother's lawn.

The sun was behind the damn thing though. When the pod opened she couldn't see who the pilot was, just an indistinct silhouette at this distance. The figure wasted no time, hoping out and looking around quickly. There was something quite familiar about him, he had dark hair, cut flat across the top, dark pants, and a dark vest of some sort. He looked over sharply in their direction, and Trunks and Bulma both ducked back. He might have sensed them even if he hadn't seen them, but just a second later they saw him leap up, into the air and away.

'Who was that?' whispered Trunks.

'I don't know. But they just arrived in my time machine.'

'What? But you haven't built it yet!'

'I know. And yet! I suppose if I do manage to finish it one day, time effectively ceases to act linearly. Maybe this is proof of my success.'

'Yeah, maybe.'

'But who was piloting it? Because it sure wasn't you.'

'It's not anyone I've ever met before. Do you think they're a friend we haven't met yet?'

'Could be. Or it could be a thief. A very powerful thief. Have they gone far Trunks?'

'Yes, and he's continuing to travel North East at speed.'

'Then let's investigate that machine.'

But when they left their hiding place the machine was nowhere to be seen.

'But it was just here!' said Trunks, running towards it. 'I didn't hear it take off again, did you?'

'No!' She rushed over to where it had stood also. Something looked weird about the ground where it had been. Refracted. And there was a dim patch on the ground, like a shadow where no shadow should be. She slowed and bent to look down at the nearest edge of the dim patch and received a stunning crack on the head.

'Ow!' She staggered back and clutched her forehead. Nothing was in front of her to hit her head on, although the scene looked like it was shimmying a little, she must've been hit hard.

'Mom, what is it? Were you attacked?' Trunks rushed over, but as he was nearly at her side he tripped with a heavy 'oof' and sprawled in the dirt. 'What the…?'

Bulma blinked. Why, that sly her! She put her hand out and felt the solid coolness of metal.

'I am a freaking genius Trunks! Holy cow, how did I solve this?'

'Solve what?' said Trunks from the ground, grumpily.

'Cloaking technology! I've had a few ideas, but nothing that was as stable or effective as this.'

'Are you telling me the time machine is here, but invisible?'

'That's exactly right!' She ran her hands over the surface of the legs, then the underbelly of the pod. 'Now if I were future me, I'd have the cloaking device on a remote control, but I'd also have a manual release somewhere, in case the remote was lost. Now, where would it be?'

After a couple of minutes searching she detected the edges of a panel in the crook between the pod and one of the legs. She dug her nails around it but couldn't budge it, so reached into one of her pockets and found a small flathead screwdriver; just the thing. More gentle probing around the four sides of the panel and finally the thing popped open on a hinge.

'Woah, trippy,' said Trunks, seeing the innards of the pod apparently hanging in mid air.

Bulma frowned at the various switches and wires on display. This was quite strange, trying to guess how she might design something in the future when all manner of issue might have come up during design that dictated how things had to be. It was definitely familiar feeling though. There were three screw topped little knobs labelled C, D and P. If she had to guess, and she was about to, C was cloak, D was door and P was power. She jammed her screwdriver in the knob marked C and turned.

'Oh wow!' said Trunks.

The sleek black thing winked back into view. It had silver and red detailing and a glossy paint job which looked pretty banged up.

'It's not new,' said Bulma. 'Black? That wouldn't have been my first choice. Green maybe. Or tan. Something at least slightly camouflaged.'

'Looks pretty good in black to me,' said Trunks.

Bulma turned the door screw. There was a small mechanical sounding clunk.

'Lift me up Trunks, I've unlocked the door!'

Trunks lifted her onto his back and hovered till they could see into the cockpit. The great glass dome was scratched and scorched in several places. 'This thing's been in the wars,' Bulma observed. She pulled up the dome and it rose on hydraulics up and out of the way. Inside were more puzzling clues. It was larger and more spacious than the plans Bulma had sketched up. They were based on how much material she had managed to get hold of, so maybe at some point in the future she found more which enabled her to build it bigger. There was red leather upholstery; that definitely hadn't been in her plans, and it was well worn, scratched badly in a few spots, and what looked like old bloodstains in more than a few spots. The controls were slightly grimy, there was a bit of dust inside the dials, and there was a bunch of grimy folded sheets of paper tucked alongside the chair.

Trunks sat her on the edge of the cockpit and perched on the other side.

'The controls at least are exactly how I planned them,' she said. 'See, there's the current date and time, current location. This is the destination time and location, which is set to nearly the same time at the moment because whoever it is has just got here. Here's the log, so you can scroll back and see all your time jumps and how long you spend in each location.' This she did, and was shocked at what she saw. Jump after jump after jump, never staying longer than a few days in each time or location, always making jumps within the same fifty year period. Page after page she scrolled back, and it continued in the same pattern on and on. Particular dates came up over and over. A day two years in the future, another day fourteen years from now. The day Goku returned from outer space. The day the Androids awoke. She had researched and memorised these last two dates as part of her own time travel plan for Trunks. And the location! Almost every second location was the Capsule Corp grounds. It looked like someone was searching for something in time. But were they friend or foe?

'What are these Mom?'

'Those? That's your flight plan – your schedule for future jumps that you can program and change. This is the jump button. Those are just your altitude and the flight controls for when you're coasting the thing around, proximity alarm, drive power indicator. Stuff like that.'

Looking at all those jumps returning to the same places over and over again was giving Bulma an idea. It was a crazy idea. In fact she was scared to mention it because she was scared to act upon it, but she had a feeling that she would because it made sense.

'Trunks. You could…take a shortcut through time.'

'What do you mean?' Trunks looked at her and she could tell he was disturbed by her strange tone.

'You could take, or borrow, this time machine right now, go back into the past, warn Goku, give him the antiviral, train with them, help them defeat their own androids, then get back here before two minutes is up and the owner is any the wiser. I'll finish building the time machine later.'

Trunks stared back at her with wide eyes. Understanding spread across his face. No, this was very risky. She couldn't send him.

'Actually, forget it, it's too dangerous,' she said.

'No, it's brilliant!'

'Forget I said it Trunks! We haven't prepared, and I've never used this time machine before. It might be a very good guess, but it's still just a guess.'

'No Mom! We should do it! You're right!' Trunks eyes were shining now with excitement.

Bulma felt her heart tightening with fear. Oh god, what was the more dangerous choice; send Trunks now and he might be back in two minutes stronger, trained and triumphant, or trust that she would eventually succeed with her machine before he was killed by the androids? All while a mysterious time traveller roamed around.

'I don't know how much time I have to teach you the controls before that guy comes back. We've no idea how long he'll be.'

'Just do the best you can. I'll feel him returning from miles off. We can always abort.'

'Trunks, I'm having second thoughts about this.'

'No, please, Mom! I'm tired of living on the run! I want to kill those androids _now_! For you it will be even less time. Just a couple of minutes like you said, and then it will all be over.'

It's all a risk, she reminded herself.

'Okay. Get in, I'll teach you.'

For an hour and a half they went over the controls. Bulma programmed the times and locations that she had already picked as the best. Goku's landing, the android's emergence, this place and time, but without the minutes set yet. She made him try to memorise the times and dates, just in case. She showed him the knobs under the flap and gave him the screwdriver as he wouldn't have the remote. She went over the history with him again, the plan of what he should and shouldn't tell them. Finally there was not much else to tell. As she oversaw him practice putting date and locations into the scheduler and feed them into the destination she noticed the grubby papers again.

'What are they?' Bulma said, and leant in to grab them. They appeared to be scrawled with some kind of messy diagram, with many corrections, scribbles and faint lines and question marks. It looked like some kind of demented family tree, each with a number, only the same names were coming up again and again – Cell, Trunks, Bulma, 17, 18, sometimes Gohan, less often Goku, Vegeta, Bra, Kai. Bulma had on odd feeling creep over her as she looked through them. Somehow she felt that she was seeing something she shouldn't. A cheatsheet for the universe maybe? Who was Bra, and Kai, and Cell? Especially Cell…that name was in nearly every diagram, as were 17 and 18's. She had a feeling that she might know who Bra was. It was a name she had considered for Trunks before he'd been born, had he been a girl. A family name. Could this Bra be her daughter somehow? Or Trunk's daughter?

'I'm ready,' said Trunks. 'I set the return time.'

'That guy's nowhere near right?'

'Nowhere near.'

She trembled and reached into the cockpit to hug him at an awkward angle. 'Here.' She gave him the vial of antiviral out of her pocket. 'For Goku, remember? And make sure that you don't let me and your father find out who you are, okay? Make sure Goku understands not to tip us off.'

'Of course.'

'Goodbye son. Good luck. I love you.' She kissed him hard on the cheek.

'I love you too Mom. I'll be right back. I swear.'

'You'd better be. Stay safe out there.'

She looked into his young blue eyes. Such a burden for a sixteen year old.

She slid down the outside of the pod, hanging by her hands and then dropping to the ground. Trunks pressed the button to close the pod up. He waved. She waved back and then, with a shock, saw that words had been carved into the bottom edge of the plastic dome from the inside, and she was looking at the names "Bulma Trunks Bra" written backwards. Trunks didn't notice them at all, and the time machine rose into the sky, higher and higher, until with a tiny pop, it disappeared.


	10. The Man In Black

Time slowed down to a crawl. Bulma sat in the old flowerbed and tried not to let panic get to her as she felt surely he should be back by now. She looked at her watch. Thirty seconds had passed. Okay.

She distracted herself by doing a more thorough investigation of the contents of the box of components. She couldn't keep her mind on it. She imagined time passing for Trunks in the past. She imagined his meeting Goku. How would it be? She was sure they would like each other. She suddenly felt jealous. Man, would she like to be there, to see Goku take Frieza and his father apart like they were lego men all over again. She wanted to live in that happy place where they were all safe because Goku was alive. She'd see Vegeta again. As she remembered it he was particularly bad tempered that day. Not only had he hated the shirt she'd picked for him, but Goku's display of Super Saiyan power had put him in an even fouler mood than usual. Her heart squeezed – Trunks would see his father for the first time, maybe even meet him. How would that go? What would they make of each other?

The urge to look at her watch became too great, but when she did her heart began to pound in fear.

'Oh shit! Four minutes!'

She looked into the sky, but there was no sign of him. Panic was coming over her.

'Stay calm Bulma! You never actually saw the exact time he punched in, maybe he was playing it safe and gave himself a few extra minutes leeway.'

She sat back down in the flowerbed and stared at her watch and the seconds passing by. Ten, twenty, another minute. Two…Three…

'No, no, no!' she moaned.

She felt something then that shut her up. A presence, up high maybe. She looked up into the sky again, but her relief sublimed into fear as she spied not a time travelling machine, but the tiny speck of a person growing bigger fast as they rocketed towards her.

Bulma threw herself back into the flowerbed and wriggled backwards under an overgrown camellia bush.

She heard whoever it was touch down lightly in the long grass. A couple of seconds passed.

'What the…?' Whoever it was, was obviously discovering that the machine was missing. Bulma's heart continued it's pounding.

'Where the hell is it?'

The rough voice took her by surprise. It was familiar. She felt no less scared, but she suddenly had an urge to jump out of the bush and see the speaker.

'Where is my time machine? Woman! Come out here, I know you're hiding under that damn shrub!'

Bulma didn't think her heart could beat any harder, but after a skipped beat it did. Surely, she was fooled? It couldn't be…it couldn't…the universe wasn't that cruel…

'WOMAN!'

Shaking she crawled out from under the bush. As her eyes travelled up from the ground she saw scuffed grey boots, black jeans, red t-shirt, a leather vest, muscular folded arms…She paused, scared.

'Where has the machine gone?' he said, more softly this time.

Finally she looked at his face. She felt her lips go numb. Her voice failed. The world dimmed.

'Oh-no, no, don't you faint on me, princess!' She felt an iron hard grip on her elbows that lowered her to the ground. 'Breathe deep - it's real.'

She looked up at him, at the hard lines of his mouth, the thick dark brows pulled down into a scowl over the obsidian sharp eyes. Yep, it was Vegeta all right.

'How?'

'Time machines. You should know. Think about your N theories, about what Dr Protractor said.'

She obeyed, marshalling her brain, clinging to the hope that if she concentrated this disturbing hallucination would evaporate.

N-theory dictated that time was an ever branching thing – that to the observer it seemed linear, but in fact at each instance where a quantum event occurred there was not only one outcome, but all possible outcomes occurred simultaneously, splitting the universe into many, again and again. To the observer it would appear that only one outcome had occurred, but the observer themselves would be in each new universe observing a different outcome. So what would happen, when you travelled back along their timeline, was that a new, very major set of quantum events would happen, and the universe would split again. The time traveller would change the future of the universe they had just caused to be created, but the history of their own timeline would not change. Obvious really. The time machine in her head was designed with a bounce beacon feature – it couldn't take you to a specific universe, but it could take you back to the one you left from, leaving the timeline created with the initial jump instead of just jumping forwards along that line. But Vegeta was dead in this universe. How was he here?

'You're not from this timeline, are you?'

'No.'

'That time machine, I didn't built it, did I?'

'Not in this timeline.'

'I built it in yours?'

'Of course!'

She looked at his angry face. He looked older. The lines of his face were more deeply chiselled, his skin not as taut, there were fine lines around his eyes. It was just as hard to put an age to him as ever, but he was older. His hair threw her though. His amazing flame of black hair was gone, cut into flat spikes across the top. His whole style was so human – the clothes, the hair cut…he looked like a hood from a biker gang. Even his white gloves were gone – instead he wore black leather, fingerless driving gloves.

'Why are you here?'

'That is not any concern of yours. But that fact that my time machine is missing is about to be. Now tell me what you've done with it!' he said, his lips pulling back in a snarl.

Bulma's shock was draining away, and in it's place was fear. Who was this Vegeta? What was she to him? He was angry, and he had never thought much of murder. She stayed where she was on the ground, trembling, trying to decide what to say.

'Have you forgotten how to talk? SPEAK!'

'Ah! W-what can I say? I don't know w-where your machine is.'

He looked down at her, his eyes steely. 'You certainly took your time to confess your ignorance. I don't believe you at all.' He shook her once. This immediately ignited her anger.

'Get off me!' She scooted backwards out of his reach. Vegeta stood up again, his snarl becoming vocal now.

'I don't think you know how important this is! I am STRANDED without my machine! Talk Woman, talk before I do something drastic!'

Bulma considered her options. Where the hell was Trunks? Did it really matter what happened to her now if he was lost in time?

'We borrowed it. We were going to return it before you got back.'

Vegeta's face turned red with suppressed anger. 'Well, where is it then?'

'About…twenty years ago.'

'What! And when will it be back?'

'It…it should've been back by now. Trunks…' The panic was overwhelming now. Bulma gasped for breath, unable to go on.

'You sent our son into the past in a borrowed machine?'

She nodded.

'What were you thinking? He's too young! He's not supposed to go back for another two years!'

To her surprise she saw horror spread across Vegeta's face instead of rage, and this only made her feel worse. What had she been thinking? What had she done?

'I don't know! I knew it was a risk, but I…I didn't think this…I'm sorry, I'm sorry! My Trunks! I've lost my Trunks!' She put her face in her hands and screamed.

'Oh my gods Woman!'

Suddenly she was lifted roughly from the ground by the front of her jacket. She found herself inches from this strange Vegeta's face.

'When was he due back? Tell me!'

'I don't know exactly. Maybe seven, eight minutes ago.'

'Not long then. Maybe he just forgot the exact time.'

'He put it in the scheduler.'

'Did you see what time he put in?'

'No.'

'Then maybe he got it a little wrong.'

She wanted to believe that. She put her feet back under her, shaky as she was. Vegeta let go of her jacket.

'We'll wait a while and hope,' he said, and sat down in the grass facing the place where the machine should be. Bulma sat too, eyes on Vegeta. For the first time she noticed that he had brought something back with him from wherever he'd been – a large Perspex cylinder filled with fluid, with some kind of disgusting looking animal foetus inside it. Its presence was completely inexplicable, but the puzzle only distracted her for a second from her worry. She tried to keep the panic clawing it's way back up. In the meantime a source of information was sitting in front of her.

'You seem to know what happens back then, when Trunks goes back.'

'I know what happened when he came back in _my_ timeline.'

'At what point do our timelines diverge, do you know?'

'At _that_ point. The day Goku returned from outer space. It's where all the timelines diverge from, that make this gods-be-damned snakes nest!'

'What do you mean?'

'I mean that that first incidence of time travel set it all off! Time travel Bulma. At first it was a blessing, and now it is thoroughly cursed. No-one's meant to be as clever as you. You're such an aberration I'm surprised the multiverse didn't spit you out.' The bitter edge in his tone was hurtful.

'You're saying I shouldn't build a time machine? But you just arrived in one that I made!'

'By all means, build one. Nothing I've ever said has changed your mind.'

'Huh? How many times have you tried to change my mind?'

'Three times. I try and avoid meeting any people in whatever time and universe I'm in, but you have a knack for being there right at the wrong time. Like today.'

Bulma looked away, down at the grass, eye eyes filling with tears. Her greatest invention, her last hope, it was a curse, she could believe that now. 'I'm sorry Trunks,' she whispered.

Vegeta sighed. 'That was unfair. This is a desperate time, and you are desperate people. Your time machine is the best way out of your troubles. It's my Bulma that shouldn't have meddled.' He fell silent, staring at the ground. Then he added quietly, in a voice she didn't think she was meant to hear, 'Who am I kidding? I'm the one that really fucked things up.'

Bulma looked up at him, surprised. The Vegeta she knew would never have made such an admission. He was looking at his clenched fists, a muscle in his cheek twitching. Self hatred. Now that was more like the Vegeta she recalled.

They sat in silence for a while. Bulma turned over his last speech in her head. The way he'd said ' _my_ Bulma' had been very possessive. It sounded like more than just a way to say the Bulma from his timeline. It sounded like they were a couple.

Her watch beeped on the hour and her heart leapt back into her throat. 'Half an hour! He's been gone half an hour!'

'Shit!' swore Vegeta, striking the ground and making the whole overgrown garden leap with a spray of soil and small insects.

'He couldn't have got it that wrong could he? The wrong day? Wrong hour? Oh my God, please, send me back my son!' she cried to the universe in general.

'Cool it!' said Vegeta, angrily, getting to his feet.

'You cool it! I just sent my son to his death!' As she said this the words started sinking in and she fell into the long grass, face down in the dirt, a wail coming up from the bottom of her soul.

'Shut it Woman!'

She was way beyond hearing him, but suddenly she felt herself snatched up again by her shoulders this time. 'Be quiet and listen to what I have to say!' Vegeta yelled at her from a few inches away. She did, but not because he told her to. The instinct of the prey was telling her to save her energy to struggle free.

'We don't know that he's dead! And we are not exactly without recourse of action here! You're the most brilliant scientist there ever was, and you're building a time machine. And I am not exactly going to give up and settle down in this cheerful little branch of reality.' He gave her another shake. 'Stop squirming! Are you listening to me?'

'He might not be dead?'

'Even if he is, we can create an outcome where he didn't die.'

'What? But in _this_ outcome…'

'Did you ever consider the possibility that you would end up in the negative outcome universe?'

'What, you mean one where Trunks…Trunks is…?'

'Dead? Or not even that. Remember that when Trunks returns to this time, that creates another branch in the timeline.' His black eyes were boring into her, sharp and uncomfortable.

'It does? I didn't think it would!'

He set her back on her feet, but she was so unsteady she had to grasp his arm to stop from falling over. He didn't brush her off.

'It's a theory. Someone told me it. In one branch the traveller will return safe, and in the other they'll never show. But I've never experienced it myself. Then again, I am usually the traveller.'

'What? So he might be okay, but I'll never know, and I'll never see him again?'

'Well, like I said, it's a theory.'

'Or he's gone to the next dimension?!'

'Either way, we're not going to sit around here wringing our hands about it. You've got a time machine to build.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: So, now that Vegeta is actually here we can start cooking with gas! Please review if you're reading, just to say 'Hi!' if you like.


	11. Mercy Unlooked For

They sat in the cockpit of Bulma's hovercraft together, carrying on a very stilted conversation. They were heading towards her and Trunks's hideout to pack it up and bring it back to the lab. Vegeta had been very surprised that she wasn't already building the time machine in the lab, and agreed that they should move everything there immediately when she told him how far she still had to go on her machine.

'So Trunks came back in your timeline? Tell me what happened that time.'

'He did. I'm not sure why it would help you knowing though.'

Bulma looked over, anger leaping up at being thwarted so casually, but she kept a hold of herself – she didn't want to get the goat of this strange Vegeta. He continued to stare ahead out the windscreen.

'You said to me he went back too young. I want to know what happened to him in your timeline so I can get an idea what might be happening to him.' Her voice trembled. 'I'm worried sick!'

'I suppose it would do no more harm.' He sighed. 'You sent him back to that day Goku returned after the fight on Planet Namek. Is that where you sent him this time?'

'Yes.'

'I'd just returned myself, from looking for him all over the galaxy.'

'I remember.'

'Then you remember us all sensing the presence of Freiza and King Cold? We raced towards the site and as we got there we felt the arrival of another power even greater than Freiza, which was Trunks. This boy sliced and diced Freiza's men, then Frieza himself and King Cold. We were all pretty surprised to say the least that another super Saiyan had appeared out of nowhere. In fact, I was furious, and the damn child wouldn't tell us anything. He led us to where Goku was going to arrive, which he did and the two of them immediately went off for a private conference.'

'I just realised,' said Bulma 'you call him Goku now and not Kakarott.'

He frowned. 'Slip of the tongue. It's hard for the habit of calling him Goku not to rub off after so many years, but he's still Kararott to me.'

Bulma goggled at him. Things were sure different with this Vegeta. 'Are you…are you _friends_ with him?'

He smiled, a lopsided, bitter smile. 'I guess I am.'

'Wow.'

Vegeta kept looking ahead out of the window. She had noticed already that he didn't look in her direction much, if he could help it.

'So, I know now that Trunks was telling Kakarott about the threat of the androids, the time and the place where they would first reveal themselves. And he also told him who his parents were, which the great oaf made a great deal about. And he gave him the heart medicine. You did give Trunks some of that medicine this time, didn't you?'

'I did. Only…I'm not sure how good a condition it was in. I just found it in the lab earlier today.'

'Then maybe that is where this whole thing came unstuck?'

The slithery worm of horror writhed in her stomach again. Yes, it could very well be where things went wrong. If her younger Trunks survived the encounter with Frieza and his father, maybe the medicine hadn't worked and Goku had died anyhow? Maybe Trunks had gone down with the rest of them on that fateful day. She stuffed her hand over her mouth to keep from sobbing, and took several deep breaths. 'Don't worry Bulma, we're going to stop that happening,' she told herself. 'We're going to fix this!'

Vegeta had closed his eyes and seemed to be resting. She prompted him for more of the story.

'So Goku got sick in your timeline then?'

'Yes, but not when Trunks said he would, it happened as he went into battle with the androids, which, by the way, were not the same ones that Trunks warned us about. There were five in total.'

'What? So how did you survive?'

'With difficulty. We'd all – well, _most_ of us, spent the previous three years training at the limit for the arrival of the androids, and when they showed up Tien and Krillin may as well have not bothered, and that damn fool Yamcha's most useful contribution was getting a hole punched through his stomach, letting everyone else know where the androids were when his energy levels guttered like a candle.'

Bulma grimaced. 'He died?'

'What do you care if he died in another universe?' asked Vegeta, looking over at her at last. 'Yamcha, the others, they're all dead in most of the timelines I've visited. They've been dead here long enough. Why do you care?'

'So were you. You've been dead as they for the last fifteen years.' She looked at him needle hard. 'I think I'd still manage some concern if this particular _you_ were to die, no matter what universe you were in. So sue me.'

Vegeta grunted concession and turned away again. 'He didn't die. Senzu beans.'

'Senzu beans,' nodded Bulma.

'Kakarott fought, but was quickly being beaten, fading away as the virus attacked his heart. He would have died if I hadn't arrived at that point. Yamcha and Gohan took him away and hid him on Kame island while he recovered. I destroyed the first android, number 19 as I recall, then pursued Android 20 to Dr Gero's lab with Trunks and Krillin and the others.'

'Trunks was there?'

'Yes. He'd made a second jump to that point in time to help us defeat the androids, which is how we knew that things weren't turning out how he thought they should. Android 20 turned out to be Dr Gero himself. He'd turned himself into a robotic monstrosity. He activated 17 and 18, who in turn activated Android 16, before 17 killed Dr Gero while we watched. When I caught up to them…well, my freshly minted super Saiyan powers were no match for even 18 alone. That was a bitter blow.'

'Could your combined strength not overcome 17 and 18? Or 16?'

'No. With Goku out of the fight, we were completely over-matched. Not that Goku would have tipped the balance at that point I don't think. 19 and 20 were inferior machines. Dr Gero went back to older technology when he made them because the infinite power androids were so difficult for him to control.'

'So then, how did you survive?' She gasped as a new thought came to her. 'Did Trunks survive?'

'It turns out the androids were not nearly as hostile as we expected. They weren't exactly model citizens, but at that point at least, the only person in true danger from them was Kakarott, whom they were programmed to destroy. 16 was downright peaceable! We were so intent of rushing headlong into the attack, we merely forced them to defend themselves. But despite their superior strength they didn't finish us off.'

'What! That doesn't sound like our androids at all!'

'Are you sure? Are you sure they didn't start out that way?'

'What are you saying? That the Z-Warriors provoked an attack that killed them all?'

'Maybe. That's what I nearly did in my time. Or then again, maybe your androids really are different. Trunks said after we fought them, that our ones were stronger than the ones in the timeline he left. Maybe they were less aggressive also.'

'So what happened? Did you all just agree to get along and live happily ever after?!'

Vegeta laughed. 'Of course not. I went off to self-flagellate and work myself into a real lather. Piccolo went off to do something much more selfless – merge with Kami to become a super Namek.'

'What? Is there such a thing?'

'Well, the Piccolo that came back from that merging was about five times stronger and twice as well adjusted than the one we left. We lost the dragonballs of course, but later we replaced Kami with the Namekian youth Dende as Guardian, and we got them back. Piccolo could have taken the androids with ease at that point, but it was all moot because of the arrival of Cell.'

'And who is Cell? That name was written all over these diagrams.' She pulled out the tatty papers from her jacket pocket.

'What? You have my notes?' Vegeta looked over sharply, then snatched the whole stack out of her hand, and began to look through them intently and frantically.

'That's good, isn't it?'

'Yes. Yes it _is_ good.'

At last he relaxed, and sat back, closing his eyes.

'So…who is Cell then?'

Vegeta sighed, reached down and tapped the top of the Perspex cylinder. The greenish scaly thing inside twitched obscenely, thrashing a long tail. 'This is Cell.'

Bulma examined it with distaste. 'That doesn't look like anything I couldn't handle with a couple of sharp jabs of a broom handle. Gross, but hardly deadly looking.'

'Not yet. It's still a baby. You're looking at a completely genetically engineered life form – Dr Gero's last and most devastating creation.'

He told her the tale of Cell's life-sucking spree through Gingertown, about her counterpart's discovery of the abandoned and moss covered time travel machine that Cell had used to come to that point in time. He told her about Piccolo's fight with Cell, the story of Cell's origin as a DNA amalgam of all the strongest warriors that ever stepped foot on the Earth. And Cell's admission that he required to absorb Androids 17 and 18 in order to achieve his perfect, final form, and about Cell's waking up in a future where the androids were gone, destroyed by Trunks, but solving his problem by killing Trunks and stealing his time machine to come back to a time when 17 and 18 were still alive. Bulma was upset by the thought of a Trunks in any timeline dying.

'Don't worry, that can't happen now in this timeline,' said Vegeta. 'I'm taking this tub of DNA sludge away with me, if I can.'

'I think I'm beginning to see what you meant about that first time jump opening the door to a tangle of time travelling repercussions.'

Vegeta snorted. 'Believe me, that is no where near as complicated as thing have become.'

Just then he was interrupted by a single peep of the proximity alarm before, with an enormous metal clank, the hoverjet slammed into a flat spin. Bulma screamed, crushed against her harness while Vegeta swore loudly next to her. She fought the G forces to put her hands to the controls again, but shifting the stick didn't achieve anything. Meanwhile their nose was dipping, and each revolution showed the ground filling the windscreen and getting closer each time.

'Do something or we're gonna die!' she screamed.

Vegeta burst into flame next to her, and quick as a blink the windshield was gone, shattered outwards, and the hoverjet was slowly halted in its rotation. Bulma found herself sitting back in her seat looking skyward though the front window at the glowing, golden Vegeta above, who was holding the craft by the front pillar. He wasn't looking at her though, he was looking across at something else.

'Leave us. You can't win this fight,' he said.

'Oh really?' came the calm, distant reply of Android 17. Of course it was the androids, what else could it be? 'Maybe we should be the judges of that. What do you have in there?'

'Nothing,' replied Vegeta. 'It's just a jet.'

Suddenly the hoverjet was falling, and Bulma held in a scream. She thought for a second that Vegeta had dropped her but he was still holding tight to the front pillar. Then they slowed and he settled the craft onto the solid ground more or less gently.

'He's lying,' she heard 18 say. 'He's got Trunks's Mom in there, I saw her.'

'Lying, really? My feelings are hurt,' said 17. 'Well, if Trunks's Mommy is here, maybe we should ask her if he can come out to play.'

Bulma scrabbled out of her harness and out the broken front window to see what was going on. They'd come to rest in the overgrown fields of an abandoned homestead. Vegeta stood a dozen feet away, and beyond him, hovering just above the ground, as if it was too disgusting to step on, was 17 and 18.

'Trunks isn't here, foolish children. Now leave us be.'

'Maybe you'd like to play with us instead then? You look pretty strong. You've got one of those freakish golden glows going on, just like Gohan and Trunks. One of those…Saiyans. Strange, how we've never met you before. Have you been hiding?'

Vegeta scowled. 'I don't think you'd like my version of playing. I've had a very bad day so far, and I'm not sure I could resist the temptation to reduce the two of you to components! Do not test me!'

'I don't think he wants to play, 17,' said 18. 'Where has this one come from? Something doesn't seem right.'

'Listen to your sister, 17.'

'No,' said 17 petulantly. 'I don't do what other people tell me to do. Not even my sister.'

'Jerk,' muttered 18.

Almost too fast to follow, 17 launched himself fist first at Vegeta, and just as fast Vegeta leapt up in a kick that caught 17 under the chin, flipping his head back and launching him back the way he came.

'Hmm,' said 18 as her brother sailed past her and crashed through the wall of an empty farmhouse.

17 wasn't down for long though. He floated leisurely back, dusting his elbows. 'Ow. I'm more angry with myself that you though. I guess I underestimated you. But I won't this time.'

'Yes you will, or you'd have given up by now,' said Vegeta.

'You talk a big game, but that's getting on my nerves.'

'He looks familiar,' said 18.

'You're right,' agreed 17, and to Vegeta he said 'If I didn't know better I'd swear I'd killed you once before.'

'You did. And if you keep coming at me you may get the opportunity to experience me killing you in return!'

'You're boring me now with your nonsense. Time for you to shut your mouth for good!' 17 closed the distance between the two of them and lashed out with his fist, then his legs, limbs moving too fast for Bulma to see more than a blur, but somehow not a single blow landed on Vegeta. The Saiyan seemed to be barely moving; he was like water; 17's punches passing through him rather than missing. 17's face registered only annoyance, but then Vegeta landed a punch on him from above – to Bulma's eyes it looked like the hit connected before Vegeta even left the ground – and 17 was knocked down into the ground with so much force that dirt and rocks sprayed the area and 17 was rammed yards underneath it. Bulma hid her face from the flying debris.

When she looked again Vegeta was smiling that scary, hard smile that Bulma had seen once or twice a long time ago – it was the smile of his sadistic joy in beating someone in battle. That hadn't changed.

17 erupted from the hole, dust covered and missing a lot of his cool.

'Who are you? I just want to know before I kill you. You look and talk just like Vegeta, but I killed him a long time ago and he was a weakling, nowhere near as strong as you are.'

'I _am_ Vegeta!'

He sprang at the android, and though 17 fought back, in a few short seconds Vegeta had him in a headlock with one of his arms twisted behind his back.

'You have no idea how much I want to kill you right now,' said Vegeta softly. 'But I made a promise to someone.'

'Ah!' gasped 17 as Vegeta twisted his arm further. There was a metallic screech of metal giving way and 17 screamed. '18! Help!'

18 had been standing by looking stunned up to this point. Now she put on a frown of determination. 'No one hurts my brother but me!' she said, leaping at Vegeta. Vegeta fought her back easily, even with both arms wrapped around 17. He blocked her blows with his legs or with her brother's own body, causing the boy to cry out again.

'Stop it!' shouted 18. 'You don't fight fair!'

'I never promised fairness!' Vegeta mocked, and then he blasted her with chi, mashing her into the ground.

Before she could get up he was on her also, dragging 17 with him. He picked her up by the throat and she lashed out at him with her arms and legs, but he squeezed harder and shouted 'Be still, or I'll have your head off, and your brother's!'

18 stopped hitting and kicking at him but continued to scramble at Vegeta's hands about her throat. Bulma's eyes were wide – the ease with which Vegeta had mastered the androids was incomprehensible to her, and she was sure the tables were about to turn at any moment.

'What are you waiting for?' she screamed at him. 'Finish them!'

Vegeta looked over his shoulder at her for just a second.

'No,' he said, 'not today. I made a promise.' He looked back at 18 with a snarl on his face and addressed her. 'So when I say to you, you are completely outclassed, and you would be a fool to try anything or to harm this woman, you'll believe me, right?'

18 nodded, tears welling up.

Bulma came closer. 'No! What are you doing, Vegeta? Kill them while we have the chance!'

'He'll kill me 18!' gasped 17. 'Don't let him kill me!'

'I'll kill him, but only if either of you misbehave,' said Vegeta. ' _Got it?_ '

18 nodded again and Vegeta set her down on the ground.

'Now don't move,' he instructed. 17 trashed about wildly.

'Help!'

'Shut it!' Vegeta performed a lightning fast manoeuvre, and suddenly 17 was face down on the ground, with Vegeta's knee in his back and hand round his throat.

'Please, don't hurt him!' sobbed 18.

'Just like you've shown so much mercy for all the loved ones you've destroyed? All those countless millions that you and your brother have put to death?'

18 looked back defiantly with tears in her eyes. Bulma knew there was no comeback for that, and apparently so did 18 because she said nothing. Bulma wondered if it were possible for the thing to feel shame. She wondered if she _wanted_ it to feel shame. She walked as close as she dared, close enough to see the look in 18's eyes.

'It's kind of different when it's someone _you_ love, when _you're_ the people on the receiving end of brutality, isn't it?'

'What are you doing Vegeta?' asked Bulma.

'Practising reason. And mercy. For a friend.'

'What do you want with us?' said 18.

'I want you to tell me why you do what you do.'

'What do you mean? We don't do anything, we just travel around taking care of ourselves and looking for things to do to stave of boredom.'

'Is that how you see it? Bulma, how do the people of Earth see what they're doing?'

Bulma blinked. 'You mean the killing and breaking?' She gathered her thoughts, and them spoke them with so much hatred her voice shook. 'We see it as wanton, soulless, senseless destruction! Genocide for fun! Grand scale vandalism! Our lives and civilisation ended by mere spite!'

'You people started it!' retorted 17, from the ground, his face still pressed into the dirt.

'That's right,' said 18. 'Why should we care about you people and your stupid world? No-one ever cared about us!'

'What?' screamed Bulma. 'You came out of nowhere and started knocking down cities! How is that "us" starting it?'

'We were just trying to go about our directives, we had no choice thanks to that nutjob Dr Gero, and then idiots and policemen and fighter jets were getting in the way. What are you supposed to do when a war plane is firing missiles at you huh? We were never given a chance.'

'Even before then,' said 17, 'before Dr Gero remade us, no-one gave a crap about us.'

'Before Dr Gero…remade you?' echoed Bulma, trying to make sense of it.

'They're not really androids at all,' said Vegeta. 'They're cyborgs. Two delinquents that Dr Gero kidnapped and altered for his own ends. Unsuccessfully.'

'That foolish old man! He was the worst,' said 18. 'I hope he's rotting in Hell.'

'He is, believe me,' said Vegeta and frowned down at 17. Then he stood and dragged 17 upright, holding him by the throat and staring him in the eye.

'I don't think you're strong enough for what's coming for you. In fact, I know you're not. It makes me wonder why I'm giving you a chance.'

'I don't know what you're talking about,' said 17. His voice was still level, but there was a tremor of emotion in it that betrayed his fear and anger. 'I'm strong enough for whatever I need to be, but if you feel some need to destroy me go ahead and try.'

Vegeta's face hardened into a vicious smile. 17 lashed out in a lightning fast kick that caught Vegeta in the stomach, causing him to double up, but before 17's follow up punch could land Vegeta caught him by the wrist, forcing his hand low. Then Vegeta braced one foot against 17's thigh and pulled. 17 screamed and fell to his knees accompanied by the sounds of metal joints popping.

'Don't just stand there 18, help me!'

'I wouldn't if I were you, I really will kill him,' countered Vegeta.

18 looked frantic. 'Stop please! Let him go! Let us both go! We'll do whatever you want!'

'Your kind,' said 17 between clenched teeth. 'You Saiyans. You've always had it in for us! He doesn't want us to do anything more than die!'

'Not this time,' said Vegeta. 'This time I want you to change.'

'What?' said 17, 18 and Bulma in unison.

'You two were human once. Stop killing, stop destroying, learn to be human again.'

'What are you talking about?' said 18 with derision. 'We are _not_ human. We're different. What, do you think we're just going to walk up to the nearest human hidey-hole and say "Hey, lets be friends!"? They'll try and kill us like they always do. And why would we _want_ to anyway? It would be like moving in with the pigs in the pig sty.'

'A pig sty _you_ made!' Vegeta stepped closer to 18, pulled 17 along, going scowl to scowl with her. 'Such amazing arrogance! How ridiculous it is from the other side! I don't care how you do it Blondie, just stop the killing and the destruction or I or my son will destroy _you_.'

'What makes you think we can change? We were made this way.'

'I'm not so sure you were. I used to think the same way you did. I thought I could never change, but I did. I know that I didn't want to even try to be better, because if I did it would mean that all that blood on my hands was not only my fault, but my choice. And I killed and destroyed far, far more than you two brats could ever dream of. Even I could change.'

Bulma looked at Vegeta, taking him in all over again. Man, how much did she wish she had lived in his timeline and gotten to see what had caused this miracle of transformation. Of course, it was obvious to see that some things hadn't changed about him, like his temper, or his sadistic streak.

'News flash moron! We're robots!'

'Cyborgs. Now you're just making excuses. I know you can change because I've seen it! I'm a time traveller. In my own timeline you were saved from destruction by mercy. Both of you managed to live your lives without needless violence again. Especially you 18, I've seen you change most of all.'

'A time traveller? You can't be serious!' 17 managed to snigger past the chokehold.

Vegeta went on as if he hadn't heard him. 'You fell in love 18, got married, had a child, a business, a life.'

18 looked stunned, but then her face returned to its usual expression of detached disdain. 'I can't take you seriously at all Vegeta. I suppose time travelling might explain how you manage to be alive when we killed you years ago, but it sounds like hooey to me.'

Vegeta fished around in a pocket with his free hand and came up with some kind of PDA with a screen on one side of it. 'Look, I'll show you.' For a few seconds he flicked through the PDA with his thumb, and then triumphantly brandished the screen in 18's face.

18's mouth popped open, then closed again and she narrowed her eyes with scepticism. 'That can't be me, they look older.'

'You _are_ older there.'

'I suppose you're going to say the kid is mine.'

'The kid is yours. Her name is Marron.'

She snorted. 'Impossible! Falling in love! I don't think I can do such a thing.'

'Think whatever you like. It's hard to fall in love with anyone when you're blasting the crap out of their city.'

18 studied the image closely for another few moments.

'What about me?' said 17, chuckling. 'Think I can fall in love?'

'Who knows? Who cares?' Vegeta let him go, and 17 staggered back, clutching an arm that hung brokenly loose. 'Now get out of here, and remember what I said. I will gladly take you apart if I find out you have been terrorising again.'

'Come on 18, lets get out of here.' 17 took off immediately, but 18 stood up and looked with narrowed eyes at Vegeta.

'Tell me this is a trick,' she said.

'It's not a trick.'

As soon as she took to the air Bulma leapt to Vegeta's side and pulled his hand holding the PDA to her. She glimpsed a picture of a older, more elegant and better dressed 18, smiling gently with her hand on the shoulder of a shorter, round faced blonde girl of about eighteen years old. Vegeta snatched it back immediately.

'Is that true? Is that really her?'

'Does it matter?'

'Yes, it does! I want to make sure that you know what you're doing as you just let the world's number one enemies get away Scot free! Let me see that picture!'

Reluctantly he held the screen out to her, but didn't pass it over. This time she could see that the 18 in the picture was at some sort of party, and the room in fact looked like the top floor of the house at Capsule Corp. One of the people over her shoulder looked distinctly like Yamcha stuffing a canapé into his mouth, only much older than she'd ever seen him.

'This is at my house!' she said.

'Yes.'

'Am I…was I…will I be _friends_ with Android 18?' Bulma was staggered.

'Yes. Don't look so shocked. You were more than friends with me once.'

'Who's that kids father?' Vegeta didn't answer, just pulled the device away from her and pocketed it. 'Vegeta!'

'Why do you need to know?'

'Because curiosity will burn a hole through me! If 18 meets the guy maybe she'll fall in love with him in this timeline.'

'No. He's gone.'

'It's someone we know then.'

'Yes, that's logical,' he said sarcastically. 'Come on, let's get a move on.'

He walked back to the hoverjet and she followed.

'Yes, it does make sense actually. If you know that 18's husband is dead in this timeline, and you just got here, it must be someone significant that you already know would be dead in this timeline! Therefore…it's probably one of the Z fighters!'

'Is that what you call logic?'

'It's the most likely explanation. Was it…' She went through the possibilities. 'Yamcha? He was in that photo.'

'Please! 18 had better taste than that. Now will this thing fly or will I have to carry you to your house?'

Bulma made a face and climbed on board. Thankfully the massive dent was on the non-door side of the vehicle. She managed to start the stalled engines after priming the fuel lines.

'We're going to have to go hell-slow without a windshield,' she grumbled.

'Well, with a time machine, one thing we have lots of, is time.'

Bulma felt the panic grip her again, unexpectedly. 'You realise, it's going to take me at least a year to finish the time machine! I wasn't counting on having it done for another two years – even if I step up work and do nothing else, I can't imagine it taking less than a year! There are still so many things I haven't worked out yet!'

Vegeta looked at her alarmed, but then relaxed. 'I don't think it will take you that long this time.' He fished in his pocket and pulled out a remote with a Capsule Corp logo on it. 'This time you'll have a head start.'


	12. The Plan

Half an hour later they touched down in the clearing where her underground capsule house was buried. It looked, to the casual observer, like there was nothing there, but in fact, this was something of a tiny village. There were six underground residences in the area, spaced distantly. Footpaths that could be mistaken for animal tracks connected them.

'Was it Tien?' Bulma asked. 'He always had a thing for challenging women.'

'No.'

'Well, obviously not Chao Tsu!'

Vegeta sighed.

'Or Yajarobe…I can't imagine that. Oh! It couldn't have been _Gohan_ could it?'

'No!'

She thought about the picture of Marron again. She had looked familiar – round faced, round eyed, tiny button nose. She realised the answer was obvious.

'Krillin! It was Krillin, wasn't it?'

Vegeta growled.

'Oh my gosh, that sly dog Krillin! He never had much luck finding girls, but his first girlfriend was a stunner too; maybe I shouldn't be surprised. And she was also a bitch, but Marron never killed even one person, never mind a few millions. Marron! Of course, he named his daughter after that insufferable bimbo, his first girlfriend. Urgh, that's a bit weird actually. Did 18 know who that name belonged to?'

'How should I know!'

Bulma felt giddy with a sensation she hadn't had for a long time – gossip, about her friends. It was almost like they hadn't died, she'd just been living apart from them for fifteen years, and now she had a chance to find out how their lives had turned out.

She bounced out of the hoverjet, looked in at the house briefly - it was a tip, and capsulating it wouldn't help that, but at least she'd have something to blame it on later. With a massive 'POOF' the house disappeared leaving a crumbling soil-walled cavity under the earth. Bulma waited a few moments to see if it would collapse and then ran in to snatch the capsule off the ground. Then she hurried above ground and went to a nearby tree where she'd hidden her case of other capsules to dig them up. She kept them outside in case she had to capsulate the house in a hurry – you couldn't capsulate a capsule – the resulting pressure could be explosive.

'Did Yamcha ever marry?' she asked,

'Why does it matter?' said Vegeta with exasperation.

Bulma stood up, angered by his resistance. 'It matters to me because I'd like to know that in some universe my friends lived long and happy lives!'

'Not every story had a happy ending.'

'Well it can't be worse than the one they had here.'

He pressed his lips together and looked away. 'Yamcha was not married last I saw him. Although even in late middle age he still hadn't exhausted the supply of women willing to buy his brand of bullshit.'

'Huh,' said Bulma, digging in the dirt again. 'Should have known. What about Tien?'

'No, he didn't marry that I know of.'

'He and Launch didn't get back together?'

'I wasn't paying that much attention. They might have, but she didn't stick around.'

'Master Roshi?'

'Absolutely no different from the day I met him.'

She chuckled. 'Piccolo?'

'Boring as hell. Likes to spend long months meditating in the sunshine on Kami's lookout.'

'Gohan?'

'Married the Earth's most powerful female fighter. Or she was until their daughter Pan was born. Pan is friends with Trunks despite their age difference.'

'Trunks! Does Trunks have a girlfriend or anything?'

'Nothing permanent. That damn fool woman Chichi hopes that one day that once Pan is a bit older that she and Trunks will marry. And if it wasn't enough to wish one member of the Son family marrying our progeny-'

He cut himself off then, and Bulma looked up sharply, the case in her hands now.

'What?'

He didn't answer.

'Who is Bra?' she asked quietly.

He didn't answer, just continued to stare off into the trees.

'Is she my daughter?'

'You ask too many questions Woman.'

'Is she _our_ daughter?'

This time he flinched, curling up on himself just slightly.

'Were…you and I together in your universe?'

He walked away without the angry outburst Bulma was expecting. She followed him back to the hoverjet, suddenly worried. He went inside and with a metallic pop the big dent in the side of the craft popped back out.

'Do you have any more hoverjets?' he asked as he walked back out the door. He kept his eyes averted. Bulma felt a pang of pain.

'No.'

'Then take this one back to the lab. I'll look for another one, or at least another windshield. What else do you need?'

'Raw construction material for the cab, so metal – steel – and polymer. And I need a power source for the lab. A generator.'

'Okay, I'll see what I can do. See you in a few hours.'

'But-'

He was already airborne. She watched him go, feeling abandoned and nervous. Was he not worried about her meeting the androids again? Seemingly not.

She spent a good twenty minutes enticing her hens into the chicken coop, trapping them there and then loading the coop onto the hoverjet with a great deal of difficulty. After that she went to tell her nearest neighbour where she was off to, apologising for the suddenness and asking them to spread the word, then she got back into the hoverjet for the long slow ride back to the Capsule Compound.

Back in the den she stood in the stillness, at a loss. The task ahead was so great. What to do first?

Light. There was low intensity solar powered light in all the labs that no longer worked. She would need a generator to power the strong task lights, but for some useful, free and quiet light she should figure out what had knocked the solar lights out.

She took off her new jacket, rolled up her sleeves, and stood on a box on top of a lab bench and pushed up through the ceiling panel into the space above.

* * *

'Hello?'

Vegeta walked slowly through the dark laboratories. He could see the woman nowhere, but could hear muffled scrabbling. Was she tied up? Was this a trap?

With a flicker and a faint popping sound the overhead panel lights came on.

'Woman, where are you?'

Something shifted suddenly overhead. There was a creak and then a crash and a cascade of dust and broken ceiling panel came tumbling down, and with it Bulma squealing with fright. He caught her before she could crash to the floor.

'Whoops. I got the lights going.'

'So I see.' He held her at arms length and placed her gently on her feet. 'Woman you are filthy.'

'I know. There's nothing I can do about that though until we've set the house up.'

'I suppose the food is in the house too? I'm starving.'

'That's right. I don't suppose you could bury the house could you?'

'That's not necessary. I don't fear the androids.'

'But _I_ do. Forgive me if I don't have as much faith in their ability to turn over a new leaf as you do. Please!'

'Very well,' he said, ungraciously.

At her instruction he dug out a massive hole in the garden and a connecting passage to the lab. Then they uncapsulated the house, set it in place, and Vegeta buried it again.

* * *

'The place is a bit of a mess, but capsulation will do that,' said Bulma, cringing slightly at the lie. The dirty dishes that had been stacked on the bench were now on the floor. That was pretty much the only damage from the capsulation.

Vegeta stood in the doorway as though afraid to touch anything. Most of the living area was given over to Bulma's work on the time machine. There was an open plan kitchen, and even some of that had been taken over by jars of solvents and tubs of silicon. The dining room table was spread with tools and jars of screws and small components. Only the couch was technology free.

'Dear gods, how have you survived?'

'Erm. I'm going to get cleaned up now. There's some food in the fridge.'

She surreptitiously palmed a small, half empty bottle of nut oil from the kitchen bench, and then, as she passed the junk on the dining table picked a vial of emulsifier. In the small bathroom she turned the shower on, put a splash of emulsificant and some water in the bottle and shook. By the time the shower warmed up she had a bottle of rudimentary moisturiser, and it didn't even smell bad, just a little bit like musty hazelnuts.

'Clever Bulma,' she said to her reflection in the mirror. 'Just imagine what you could do if you put a bit of time into it.' And then she cringed and turned away, stepping into the shower. How could she think of petty, vain things when she didn't know if her son was safe? Why was she thinking of them at all?

She used the old stash of soft soap to shampoo her hair, and after she got out, combed some of the moisturiser through her wet hair as well as putting some on her face and hands. 'Pathetic,' she told herself.

She dashed between the door of the bathroom to the door of her bedroom wrapped in her short towel, making Vegeta look over sharply. She went to her wardrobe, cursing it all over again for it's scavenged, worn-out contents. She put on a baby pink t-shirt that she never usually wore because it said "West City Whoopers!" on it, the name of one of West Cities trashiest cheerleading squads in the pre-Android days, but she picked it now because it was form-fitting and not coming apart at the seams. She found some better jeans - black stretch, although they had permanently scuffed knees – and put the new blue jacket back on.

Back in the kitchen area she was in time to see Vegeta spit out the mouthful of nut roast he'd just taken.

'Woman, this is the WORST meatloaf I've ever tasted!'

'That's because it's not meatloaf, moron! No, don't throw it out! Do you know how long someone had to work to gather those ingredients?'

'If it's so precious to you, why don't _you_ eat it then?'

'Absolutely I will!'

'Tell me you have some real food in here, please.'

She folded her arms. She felt like she was arguing with Trunks when he was a toddler, not wanting to eat the hard won supplies she and her supporters had put together. 'This _is_ real food! This is as real as it gets buddy! Natural ingredients grown locally and processed by hand, cooked fresh by yours truly. I'm proud of that nut roast recipe, now eat it and think about all the time that went into preparing it!'

Vegeta glared back, but took another slow forkful and chewed. 'Suppose it's not that bad,' he said through his full mouth. 'As long as you don't try and compare it to anything good.'

This brought Bulma to a simmer, and scowling with suppressed rage she went about getting more food for a meal. For this ungrateful stranger she had moisturised and put on her best casual clothes. With much slamming and pointed looks she prepared a vegetable and noodle salad of a proportion she hoped would satisfy a Saiyan appetite.

They say either side of the crowded dining table.

'This is acceptable I guess,' he said, as he plowed into the salad.

Already Bulma was sick of him and wished he was leaving.

'What did you bring me?' she said coldly, before taking a forkful of nut roast. It was fine – just needed a little bit of salt, or maybe a bit of relish to bring out the best in it.

'Two hoverjets that might be good for parts.'

'No generator?'

He darted her a dark look over the rim of the noodle bowl that he'd lifted to his face to get the noodles in faster. 'No,' he said through a mouthful of noodles. 'I couldn't find anything.'

Bulma didn't know why she was surprised. If she had been looking for one it might have taken her days or weeks. Or maybe there were just no more left out there in the broken world to salvage? She might have to make something. That in itself would take days. She ate the rest of the nut roast in a gloom, not tasting it at all.

'I had an idea about power,' Vegeta announced after he'd put down the empty bowl. 'Dr Gero's lab still had power when I was there today. The power source there, whatever it is, seems to be nigh on inexhaustible.'

'Really?' Bulma quickly tracked through several emotions – astonishment, professional jealousy, distaste, and finally settled on desire – desire to have whatever it was that powered a lab for decades unattended.

'I thought we could go back after we ate.'

'We?'

'Of course,' Vegeta snapped. 'I might have picked up some stuff from you over the years, but you're still the only technical genius in the room. I've got no idea what the power source is at the lab, nor how to extract it.'

'Well, yeah. Let's go then.'

She quickly gathered a tool bag, stuffing things in it she thought she was most likely to need. Multi-metre, bolt cutters, current detector, battery operated circular saw with spare masonry blades, anti-static bags, an array of screwdrivers and wrenches, and then a handful of empty storage capsules, one of which she capsulated the tool bag into, slipping it neatly into her jacket pocket.

Outside she saw the state of the three beat up hoverjets parked haphazardly in the long grass. With a sinking heart she realised that neither of the new ones was a good candidate for a windshield transplant.

'These are totally the wrong model!' She turned to Vegeta. 'They aren't even the same brand of Hoverjet!'

His eyes flashed black at her. 'The dashboard said it was a Nova 550. These are Nova 550s!'

'That's because I replaced the dashboard a year ago, from a Nova! The exterior is obviously _not_ a Nova!'

'And how was I supposed to know that Woman!'

'With your eyes!'

'Just how much attention do you think I pay to the makes and models of hoverjets? In fact, the last time I was even in a hoverjet before today was probably more than ten years ago. Maybe you should've been more specific!'

Bulma knew she was being unreasonable, but she just didn't care. Taking out one's frustration on Vegeta would've seemed like suicide to most anyone else, but for her it was just the way she was. He scared her, but she just couldn't stop herself.

'Well now it's going to take forever to get to Gero's lab because I have to find a windshield first.'

Vegeta's lip pulled up in a snarl, and he stepped forward and took her wrist. For a split second she thought he was going to hug her, but then he bent and grasped her round the knees with his other arm, and took off into the sky with her bent over his shoulder. Bulma grappled madly for a grip on the back of his jeans and vest, and between the shock and the acceleration she struggled to catch a breath. She could see the grounds of the Capsule Compound receding very quickly, while she flew ass-first towards their destination. It was this indignity that made her boil over from annoyance to rage.

'You bastard, what do you think you're doing?' she screamed as she pummelled his back with one fist and held on for dear life with the other.

'What does it look like I'm doing idiot woman?' he yelled back, the wind whipping his words away.

'Put me down! Put me down! I refuse to be carried like a sack of potatoes!'

'Put you down?'

'Yes!'

Suddenly they slowed and Vegeta tipped her back as if to set her down on her feet, except they were about two hundred feet in the air. Bulma lost her grip on his leather vest and screamed as she realised he was going to drop her, even at the same time not believing he was going to. She lashed out a hand as she began to fall, her fingernails raking down his arm but failing to get a grip, she looked up at his face, eyes wide with terror; he was glowering, but laughing too as she plummeted away.

'Vegeta, noooo!'

She switched her attention to the ground that was rushing up, looking with fervent hope for a lake or even just a large bush to break her fall, but all there was were the broken remains of West City.

'I'm not even going to be able to save Trunks before I die!' she thought, but then the air was forced out of her lungs again by an impact like landing on the arms of a forklift. Her momentum was shifted from vertical to horizontal and she found herself in Vegeta's arms with his face just inches away. He wasn't looking at her, but scowling ahead, his face brutal, his jaw set in a way that was familiar not just from her old memories of him, but also from seeing the same expression on Trunks's face.

'I HATE you!' she said, her voice hoarse with the earnestness of the statement.

'Good,' he said.

'Hoverjet not fast enough for you?'

'No. And I would have thought it wasn't fast enough for you either. Besides, there's nowhere to land it at the lab. The entrance is in the side of a cliff.'

'Thanks for letting me know your thoughts, but YOU COULD HAVE LET ME KNOW BEFOREHAND!'

'Quit your screaming Woman before I drop you for real!'

She glared up at him, imagining her eyes burning scorch marks into his face. Perhaps it worked a little bit because he glanced down at her and away again.

'Stop it,' he said.

'Make me.'

'You can ride on my back if you're going to be like that.'

'I'd prefer that.'

'Up you go then.'

She was about to ask how she was meant to clamber onto his back from there, when suddenly he heaved her into the air. She somersaulted backwards, twisting just like he must've meant her to, because once she was facing groundwards again she fell only a short distance to come crashing down on his back.

'You're an evil black eyed bastard!' she yelled, wrapping arms and legs about him boa style in case he tried some other aerial manoeuvre with her.

He laughed. 'I hope not, or my title of Prince of All Saiyans would be in some doubt.'

Bulma kept her head down, mouth shut and teeth grinding with rage all the way into the mountains.


	13. The Other Undergroung Lab

Rocky craggy wasteland. Bulma felt anger roil in her stomach. Secrecy and revenge had driven Dr Gero to build his lab in one of the most unappealing landscapes on Earth. That's how much he had hated the world. Well, at least she knew what had become of him now – killed by his own evil creations. Fitting. Very fitting.

They touched down on a ledge cut into the steep side of a mountain. Enormous metal doors stood mangled on their hinges, and still gave off a bit of heat. Vegeta's handy work from earlier today then. She leapt from Vegeta's back and strode ahead without looking back at him. They stepped through the wreckage of the entrance into the dark maw beyond. Her footsteps echoed in the empty space, and then with a great deal of flickering and pinging, banks of overhead lights turned themselves on.

They were in a huge room hollowed out of the top of the mountain. The walls were bare rock, the floor was plain polycrete tiling. The strip lights hung from chains from the ceiling, and exposed ducts, cabling and control panels were the only adornment to the lab, other a rather nauseating dark brown stain that was splattered along the floor and up the wall to her right. She stared at it wondering what it was until she realised that one of the pieces of debris mixed up in it was a disembodied, shrivelled foot. Shuddering, she hurried along. There were large upright pods that stood open, branded with the numbers 17 and 18. Bulma felt her skin prickling even though the threat of what they used to hold was long since departed. There was a rounder, squatter horizontal pod labelled 19, and a cold steel table that looked like it belonged in a pathologist's lab branded with the number 20.

'Androids 19 and 20?' gasped Bulma.

'Those were the ones I was telling you about,' said Vegeta following behind her. '19 was a smug, clown faced monstrosity. 20 was Dr Gero made hideous, with his own brain transplanted into a plexiglass bulb on top of the cyborg's head.'

'That's disgusting!'

There was one other pod in the room. This one was still closed, and there was a blinking green light and a readout screen active. Bulma crossed over to it to see the number. It was 16, and right above the number was a window.

'Oh my God!' yelped Bulma, jumping backwards.

'16 is still in there,' said Vegeta, knowingly.

'Is he dangerous like this?'

'No. He's not really dangerous at all.' He came forwards and leant over he window himself. 'I'm not sure what will happen if we turn the power to this thing off. He might die.'

'So what? Lets get to it – the faster he's dead the better!'

Vegeta frowned into the oversized features of the red headed android. 'I'm not sure that would be best. He could be useful. Plus…he deserved more than that.'

'What?' Bulma boggled at him. Who was this guy? Vegeta showing sympathy for an android? Vegeta showing sympathy at all? 'Vegeta, it's one of Dr Gero's creations, how deserving can it be?'

'I've seen this machine commit acts of bravery that were worthy of any of Earth's greatest heroes. I guess even Dr Gero screwed up sometimes.'

Bulma stared at him looking wistfully in the window and moved on swiftly before he could suggest waking the thing up. She followed the live cables from the pod up the ceiling, across and down the wall. They disappeared through the floor via a duct. She looked around and spied a flight of stairs cutting into the floor.

Downstairs was a series of rooms. There was a modelling shop, with creepy sculpted body parts sitting round half finished in vices and sitting on shelves. There were several medical looking labs. She felt sick looking at the steel tables in the middle of the first room, which had raised edges and a bevelled bottom to drain…fluids down the sinkholes in the centre.

In one was a huge metal bulkhead with computer terminals arranged around it. One screen flashed a red warning dialog "CELL PROGRAM INTERUPTTED AT 99.998% COMPLETION". A pedestal stood empty.

In the final room she finally found the nuts and bolts of the lab. Here was the switchboard for the lab's network and the fusebox for the power cables, and following back from that, a plain metal box. Bulma uncapsulated her toolbox. Too easy.

When Vegeta joined her some minutes later she was puzzling over the contents of the box. What the hell had Dr Gero invented? A clear plastic box containing coils and wires, with a blue lights flashing in series over and over. There appeared to be no fuel source, no kinetic energy in, no significant radiation signature, just megawatts of power piling out of this small thing. As far as she could tell, taking the power source was going to be as easy as unscrewing the terminals, but she hesitated, sure there must be more to it than this.

She lit her hurricane lamp and opened the fusebox, flipping switches up and powering down the whole lab. The room was plunged into darkness lit only by the flickering yellow light, and the sudden hush as the machines powered down was velvety thick. A small noise from the doorway made her look up – it was only Vegeta crossing his arms, but her mind, distracted by the task at hand, had forgotten not to be surprised at his presence. His shape loomed out of the darkness, the golden lamplight glowing on his olive skin from below, his black eyes gleaming, the set of his mouth stern, brows lowered. With his bare, heavily muscled and knotted arms and his black vest and jeans he oozed aggression and sex. Her breath caught in her throat as a tangle of emotions hit her all at once. Fear, excitement, loss, longing, jealousy…she was momentarily overwhelmed by confusion. She didn't know this Vegeta.

She tried to stamp down on all these feelings and get a grip, but for a few seconds she was unable to tear her eyes off him.

'Get on with it,' he growled.

Rattled, she turned back to the fusebox, her mind flapping about while she forced it to re-engage with the task at hand. She would take the fusebox too. The current splitters inside it she could use in her own lab, and it looked like it had a specialist power conduit to the generator, whatever it was. She cut all the other cords coming out of it, then got out her torque tool to undo the bolts from the wall.

The back of her neck was prickling, like his gaze was tickling her, raising her hackles. Why was he even here? To get that creation Cell, but why? What was his purpose? And then, once her new time machine was built, and they had Trunks back, what then? Would that be it, gone? What was to stop him taking the time machine as soon as it was built, without retrieving Trunks?

'Why are you in this timeline Vegeta?' she asked levelly, without turning round.

'To collect a juvenile Cell.'

'You said that, but why?'

There was a long pause. 'It's hard to say.'

'You're not _sure_?'

'Don't be ridiculous! I know exactly why I'm doing it. I mean it's hard to say the words, though I know I should tell you.' Bulma looked back over her shoulder at him, the torque tool slipping off the bolt. 'You are building a time machine after all, you should get the caution that we never did in my timeline.'

'Tell me.'

'Get back to work.'

'Don't tell me what to do!'

'Don't _you_ tell me what to do!'

She glared at him, and he glared right back. His eyes were just glittering black slits in the darkness of the room, sharp and mean. He looked evil with that sneer on his lips. He looked unearthly hot. Bulma held the gaze obstinately, but it cost her. She felt like her skin was curling back in an effort to get away, leaving her naked and exposing her fear and confusion and unwanted stirrings of lust.

He snorted and turned away, his sneer twisting into a smile, swiftly suppressed. Bulma looked away too, relieved, a blush spreading up from her collar. She hid her fluster with quickly loosening the last bolt and yanking the heavy box from the wall.

She unplugged the fusebox from the device, then pulled the strange thing gingerly from the box that housed it. It continued to blink away happily. Kami damn it, she had no idea how it worked! Dr Gero was making her feel stupid. She felt a rush of eagerness to finish the time machine to reassert her genius. She opened a storage capsule and popped the fuse box and wires in it.

She grasped her hurricane lamp and the tucked the mysterious box under one arm and headed for the door.

'Aren't you going to capsulate that?' asked Vegeta as she passed him.

'Not until I know what it is. There could be unforeseen consequences.'

He followed her out. 'It's probably an infinite power drive – the same thing that powers the androids.'

'And what's that exactly?'

'How should I know?' His voice echoed around her in the dark. 'You never had a chance to play with one.'

Bulma lost her temper a little.

'Level with me Vegeta. We were a couple in your timeline?'

He said nothing.

'Am I still alive in your timeline?'

This time there was a hesitation. 'Yes…In _my_ timeline.'

Bulma kept her mouth shut, but frustration stormed inside. Where did he get off being so mysterious?

Her mouth popped open in a gasp of fear when she got to the top of the stairs though. The great sarcophagus that held 16 was open!

She turned her eyes to Vegeta, too scared to form words.

'Don't worry, he's long gone.'

'What?'

'I let him go. I told him that Karkarott is dead of course. He won't worry anyone.'

Bulma ran to the entrance as if she would see the giant flying away still, but no vanishing figure was silhouetted by the sunsetting sky.

'I don't believe you! As soon as you've got a working time machine you're out of here, and you've left us saddled with a third android!'

'Woman, did I not just say he was harmless? Have you no trust in me?' He scowled.

'No "Vegeta", I don't!' The implied quotation marks appeared to piss him off more. 'You've given me nothing to go on! I don't know you, though you seem to know me! I'm not sure why I'm surprised though; you never gave me much reason to trust you when I _did_ know you!' Suddenly the old hurt came ripping to the surface, and before she could stop herself or remind herself that this was a different Vegeta, the words came rushing out. 'You're the guy who left me alone for a year when you found out I was pregnant! You're the guy who came home for just one month before he couldn't take it any more! The guy that regretted he couldn't bring himself to destroy the world before he fucked off!'

Vegeta straightened, cocking his head. He looked like he was trying not to smile. 'Was that how it was? '

'Yes. And wipe that smirk off your face.'

'Come on, let's get back.' He reached out for her and she backed away.

'Not so fast! I've not forgotten that you dropped me before for your own amusement!'

Vegeta grinned nastily. 'Well, I'd like to see you get back any other way.' He grabbed for her again, but she pulled away a second time.

'Well, I'd like to see you build a time machine while I'm walking home.'

'Woman, I don't have to ask your permission to pick you up! Get here.'

'See! You give me nothing to trust!'

'I don't need your trust!'

'You need me to build the damn time machine, so you'd better get me to trust you!'

'I don't need you to trust me for that either! You'd do it just the same. Or have you forgotten the son that you sent off so recklessly?'

Those words were like a slap in the face. 'Of course I haven't!' she hissed back, but she knew she had lost this argument.

'Come on. It's going to be dark by the time we get back as it is.' He held out his hand again. 'I promise I won't drop you again.'

Bulma avoided his hand, walked around to his back and hopped on, piggy back style. She passed him the box wordlessly so she could hold on with both hands.

He took off smoothly, flying low. It was summer, and the late sunset was stunning, all ribbons of pink and orange clouds, and the air rushed passed them like warm silk. It was an evening for romancing, for maitais by the pool, for slow walks along the beach hand in hand with a lover, not for ransacking labs for spare parts with a black-hearted bastard. Bulma didn't want her flesh pressed against his. She didn't want the warmth seeping up from his body into hers, or the hardness of his hips pressed between her thighs. She didn't want the smell of his hair and the skin in the crook of his neck in her nose, with it's spicy, musty maleness. She didn't want to be wrapped around him like a desperate lover. Most of all she didn't want the feelings this all stirred up. She closed her eyes to the dramatic sunset. How the hell did this day go so wrong?

With her eyes closed it was just noise and air and warmth. She was soon drifting close to sleep, but a rumble from underneath her woke her up.

'Sorry.'

Bulma blinked. Had Vegeta just said sorry?

'I'm out of practice at playing nice. I haven't really had much company for quite a while.'

'How long?'

'Long.'

'Long?'

'I've never bothered to work it out. At least ten years.'

'Work it out? Wait, you don't mean you've been time travelling for all that time?'

'Yes.'

She was shocked. 'But why?'

'Because I can't get back. Back home, to my own timeline.' He spoke like one would of old wounds, old grief. Something regretted, but accepted.

'You've just been travelling around…trying to get back? Randomly?' Because that wouldn't work.

'At first. But then I came up with a plan.'

'But it's taken you ten years? What would take that long?'

'Reconstructing a replica of my own timeline. Making sure everything happens exactly or close enough to how it did, so that when that other Vegeta gets to the point where he climbs into the damn time machine that morning, to get in and not return, I can take my place with my family at last.'

'Oh god!' whispered Bulma. 'But, that's an impossible task!'

'That's why it's taken so long. But now I'm close, very close.'

'And that Cell thing? Is that part of it?'

'Yes. I went into the past of my own timeline, and killed Cell just for the fun of it, making a new timeline. And that should have been the end of my trip, I should have been able to go back to my own timeline, but during the course of our fight Cell thought it would be fun to crush an armed jet fighter. It was armed with a nuclear EMP warhead, and the resulting pulse erased all the data on the time machine.'

'Oh.'

'I got it working again, with the help of that younger you, but the data on my point of origin couldn't be restored. I was stuck.'

'What happened to the future of that timeline then? I take it that it was too different to wait for me, or that Bulma, to invent a time machine and for that other you to go on a dumb time machine joyride?'

Vegeta growled warningly. 'You don't know how deeply I've regretted that decision, so quit the chastising.' After a pause he went on. 'I royally screwed that timeline. When I went forward to the time that I departed I was desperate enough that I would have considered killing my alternate self to take his place, but instead there was nothing.'

'Nothing? What do you mean, _nothing_?'

'No Earth, no moon, no sun or stars…nothing.'

'What! How is that possible?'

'There are worse things than androids and Cell out there. The Kai's greatest fear was that Majin Buu would consume the entire universe. He's not the most difficult-to-defeat enemy Kakarott and I and the other Z fighters have faced, but he always had the greatest potential for damage. When I killed Cell I denied Gohan the motivation to find a level beyond Super Saiyan, a second transformation, and I prevented Kakarott's martyrdom, so he never trained in the afterlife to reach the third level of Super Saiyan, and make his name in the Next Dimension.'

'Goku died again?'

'Don't worry, it wasn't permanent – the bastard won't stay dead. He's probably got his own chair in King Yama's waiting room.'

'Well he's very dead here.'

Vegeta grunted. 'He's probably having the time of his death right now, training and fighting the greatest warriors that ever lived in the entire universe. It's what he did for seven years in my timeline before he returned to Earth – to fight in the World Martial Arts Tournament!' Vegeta scoffed.

'What! He just came back to life?'

'Yes. That's how much influence he had, he could to come back for one day and he chose to spend it on that. Well, that was the day Majin Buu arrived on Earth with his master Bobbidy.'

'Who is Majin Buu?'

'Pink, greedy, stupid…ultimately Buu was more than one person, wrapped up together. But once you remove those parts of him with redeeming qualities Buu is sheer appetite and unbelievable power and resilience. The short of it was, it took all of us to defeat Buu; Kakarott, me, our sons, Gohan at the top of his game, even that oaf Mr Satan. Without the fight against Cell working out the way it did, they weren't prepared, and Buu reigned, consuming everything and everyone. The whole universe.'

'Did you try going back and defeating Buu yourself?'

'Of course! Many times. It turns out that even with the advances I've made, I'm still not a match for Buu alone. It was difficult to keep the others alive long enough to help me, but even the times I succeeded and we defeated Buu the resulting future was…unsatisfactory.'

'So, you're recreating the circumstances…so things happen the way they did for you, the way you want it? How did you work out how to do that?'

'Trial and error. Working out the effect of things one at a time. And I've finally worked out everything that's required. I was two jumps away from home, until you screwed everything up!'

Bulma held her tongue with an effort, her fingers digging into his shoulder and ribs convulsively. He probably couldn't feel it, she told herself, not through that leather vest. She wanted to tell him that it was his fault, but her own guilt stopped her. Trunks was in grave danger, and who's fault was that if not hers? It was a reckless idea, and she should never have mentioned it to Trunks. And she should never have given in when he said that he wanted to do it – she was the parent still! And he, just a sixteen year old boy with too much weight on his shoulders.

She closed her eyes again, thinking over the things he said. This Vegeta had something he loved so much that he was desperate to get back it. She could understand that, even if she couldn't understand how it had happened. Would she have spent ten years time travelling to rebuild her reality, to remake it with everyone alive again? Suddenly the possibility burned across her mind with yearning, but she pushed it away just as fast. That way lay madness. Turning back time? She'd be driven mad. She'd fail. She didn't think she could do what Vegeta had done, spend ten tens alone in toil. But for her son? For her son she would.

Somewhere along the way, in the warmth and the falling darkness she fell asleep. When the wind stopped rushing about her she awoke slightly, enough to be aware that she was being carried, safe and warm in strong arms. She smiled, feeling utterly content and cared for. Her father was carrying her up to bed.

Her foot bumped against the wall as the man carrying her turned the overhead lights on, then darkness fell all over again as they passed into her bedroom.

Something was wrong – the smell wasn't her Dad. And come to think of it, her Dad was dead. She cracked open an eye as Vegeta settled her on the bed. Right. Crap.

She closed her eyes and struggled to hold on to the feeling of being safe and happy, but Vegeta was pulling at her sneaker. Didn't he know how laces worked?

'I'll do it,' she slurred. She pushed one and then the other off with her feet.

'So you _are_ awake. I thought you might have woken when you stopped snoring.'

'I don't snore.'

'Really?'

Bulma fuzzily wondered how she'd ended up in his arms when she'd fallen asleep on his back. Opening one eye again she glimpsed the silhouette of the man standing in the doorway.

'Where are you planning on sleeping?' she said, suddenly alarmed.

'Trunks's bed out here I assume.'

'In that case, there's clean bedsheets in that cupboard behind you.'

'Make the bed? I've never made a bed up in my life.'

'It'll be a new experience for you then.'

'I think I'll survive without.'

'Believe me, you'll want to. The bed belongs to a sixteen year old boy.'

Vegeta grunted and turned to the cupboard. Bulma sighed and closed her eyes again. There was just enough feelings of comfort and safety left over that if she didn't let her brain start up now, she'd fall asleep. And boy, she was tired…

* * *

Vegeta stood up holding the sheets under his elbow. A gentle snore made him look back at Bulma spreadeagle on the bed. The sight, the sound, was so familiar to him, and so missed, longing hit him like a suckerpunch in the stomach. He froze there, hardly breathing lest he lose it, looking at her pale face in the dark. Her hair was longer than he'd ever known his own Bulma to wear it, loose and tangled like a little girl's. When she was asleep she looked younger – she always did – she looked so vulnerable. It spoke to him. It said 'I need you.'

Vegeta shook his head, trying to clear it. Illogical thoughts and feelings. She didn't need him. There was a reason he avoided meeting any Bulmas he crossed paths with along the way – being near them was to double the torture of his exile, treble it; to remind him so sharply of what he missed and what he'd done, but him unsatisfied, uncomforted...angry.

Today had been almost unbearable. This Bulma and her idiotic actions and her own guilt and pain at sending her son off into the ether reminded him forcibly of his own stupid deeds as well as his own mate. It was as if she'd reopened his wounds with a knife and poured salt in them. And this was only the beginning! There would be weeks, months, possibly even years he would have to remain here with her.

He gritted his teeth and tore himself away at last. The frustration was a good salve for the pain. It covered it up nicely. He was better at anger than grief.

After a few more minutes of making a bed for the first time ever, he'd built his fury up to a fine head of steam. He threw himself down on the single trundle, making the legs squeak, then immediately got up and stalked out and up into the cooling night. Going and hitting something for a while seemed like a good idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Make an author happy and leave a review!


	14. Business Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the reviews and the favourites! It means a lot to me, so keep 'em coming!
> 
> I may have to slow down the speed with which I post the chapters as I am starting to catch up to the point that I have written too, and I estimate that I still have about 5 chapters still to write. So hang in there, and your encouragement will help me through the home leg.

Bulma woke up early, confused and hungry. Realising she'd slept in her clothes, the memory of everything that happened yesterday hit her all at once, and with it a jolt of adrenalin. She was out of bed and into the living area in a flash. Vegeta was nowhere to been seen. There was cold coffee and cold eggs on a slice of grilled nutbread sitting on the bench. For her she presumed. Too bad it was cold and that the barely suppressed panic attack brewing inside her was gaining the upper hand over her appetite. Next to it was the power source and her storage capsules. She picked it all up and took it down into the lab.

The power source was an amazing thing. Judging by the cable that ran to the fuse box, it was capable of outputting an incredible 2000 amps. Interestingly the fusebox had a data link, and her hope was confirmed when it proved to be a stats and diagnostic feed from the source, passed in a signal through the power current itself. She was wrong about there being no fuel intake. A tiny hole that she'd taken to be ventilation was actually it's intake – air was it's fuel, and it didn't need much of that. When she blocked the air intake and watched the diagnostics, after half an hour the temperature had risen a mere 0.02 degrees, and the fuel reserves dropped from 100% to 99.99993%. The nature of the power source came clearer also. There was a very faint gamma radiation signal coming off it. One of the read outs measured gamma radiation recapture from the housing, and that sat at 99.999999991%. It was a nuclear fission device, cold, contained, miniaturized. Impressive.

'Deep in it already, of course.'

Bulma started. She hadn't noticed Vegeta come down. Guiltily she took another bite of her cold eggs on toast and gulped some cold coffee. He watched her with disapproval.

'Thanks for breakfast,' she said.

'I was cooking for me, so thought I may as well cook for you too.'

'Nnn,' said Bulma, into her coffee cup.

'What?'

Bulma knew she probably shouldn't repeat what she had just thought, but she couldn't help herself. 'I didn't think you knew _how_ to cook.'

'You don't know me.' With his words he matched a scathing look, and of course, he was right. She didn't know him, not really. The glower went on and on, until Bulma turned away, admonished.

'What can I do?' he asked unexpectedly.

Bulma looked around. 'You clean up the lab. Clear that rubble, I guess. I can't work in here with all the dust about.'

'All right.'

That day Bulma rigged the lab for power while Vegeta cleared the back lab and offices, then set about vacuuming and dusting. Bulma didn't think she'd ever seen such an unlikely thing in her life as Vegeta vacuuming, but kept her opinion to herself. He seemed grumpy, humiliated perhaps, but he didn't complain, no matter how frivolous sounding a task she set him to. And it was true that he had picked up some stuff from that other Bulma over the years. He certainly seemed to know the names of most of the equipment in the lab, and the rough usage of many.

He even made lunch, although that appeared to put him in an even worse mood than ever.

'Woman, your supplies are woefully substandard! We've nearly exhausted them in a single twenty four hour span. Tell me you have more elsewhere!'

He'd made some kind of noodle broth, with dried meat strips thrown in and some sad bits of carrot and wilted bean sprouts. It was not great. Maybe he didn't really know how to cook after all.

'I know. We need to restock. Trunks and I were going to go to the market today.'

'A market?'

'I guess we'll have to go tomorrow.'

She worked through the rest of the day, while Vegeta cleared out the large hanger area. She got the overhead hanger door opener powered up, and with Vegeta forcibly helping the seized mechanism they got them opening and closing smoothly before dinner time. By that time the sun was going down.

'I'm starving,' grumbled Vegeta.

'I'll cook!' volunteered Bulma before Vegeta could take his temper out on her impoverished kitchen. He'd been getting rattier all day. 'You should clean up,' she suggested. He was covered in filth, dust and machine oil.

He grunted and led the way back into the underground house. When she handed him a frayed towel from her shabby collection he complained that he had no fresh clothes. She showed him Trunks's small chest of drawers and told him to help himself.

She cooked the best meal she could muster. There was some frozen fish and cream that she defrosted, some garlic and potatoes. She went up into the overgrown garden upstairs and pulled handfuls of wild parsley, oxalis, watercress and dandelion. Pretty good really, but tomorrow they would be down to a couple of bags of nuts, stale nutbread, mouldy onions, whatever the chickens laid, some jars of preserves and relishes and whatever they could find in the garden. She'd much rather spend the time working on the time machine, but they'd definitely have to go to the market tomorrow.

When Vegeta reappeared from the bathroom he was wearing an orange T-shirt and grey sweatpants of Trunks's. The sweatpants had a hole in the knee and the T-shirt was too small, stretched tight across his chest and clinging to his shoulders and upper arms. He didn't look too happy about it either.

Wordlessly she set down the plates of fried fish and parsley sauce, garlic mash and wild salad. He grunted some kind of acknowledgement and tucked in. Starving herself, she ate with gusto despite the poor companionship. Vegeta began tentatively then started shovelling the food down, going back for seconds and thirds.

'S good,' he said, between mouthfuls. 'Where'd you get the fish from?'

'Frozen. Trunks caught some in a lake a couple of weeks ago.'

Vegeta paused and nodded, eyes steadfastly on his plate. 'I'll have to go get some more.'

'Well, that would be good. Maybe if you catch some tomorrow morning we could have something to trade at the market when we go.'

'What do you normally trade?'

'My skills. I fix stuff. Trunks trades his labour, or furs and meat if he's hunted something. But if I don't have to trade my skills tomorrow it'd be good, because that's time I could spend working on the time machine.'

'Good thinking.'

After dinner Bulma brought her laptop in.

'So, let me see that remote. What do you have for me?'

The remote was unremarkable, but after quickly scanning for wireless connections a password query came up on screen for a device called 'CCchrono00'.

'What's the password?'

Vegeta flexed his jaw and growled out between his teeth. 'Bandit Boy. One word.'

Bulma gave a hiccup of embarrassed laughter, but swallowed it after a look of cold fury from Vegeta.

'Sorry,' she said, but whether she was apologising for laughing or for her other self choosing this particular password she wasn't sure. It was one she had used herself in the past.

Stored on the device was a simply enormous amount of data. Terabyte upon terabyte. Much of it was in cache directories with nonsensical names, and inside were files of raw data.

'I think those are the jump co-ordinates,' said Vegeta, looking over her shoulder.

'These are _not_ co-ordinates. This string is over a thousand characters long!'

'Well, not normal co-ordinates. The way you explained it to me, these are the vibrational frequencies of unique particles.'

'Oh. Really?'

'The machine releases one on arriving at every jump. There's a stash. See that these are all numbered?'

'Of course I can see that.'

'Well, that's the order that the particles are released in. Some are used already, and some are not. If you want to go back to a specific timeline the machine scans for the right particle once it's in gauss space and locks on to the timeline it exists in.'

'Gauss space?'

'It's what I've heard some people call it. It's the space between timelines. Or rather-'

'It's the space where things exists equally in all universes?'

'Yes.'

'Oh my Kami, how ingenious! I was going to use an entangled particle to guide the time machine always back to the original timeline – leave one half of the entangled particle here and use it as a homing beacon for the one on board the time machine.'

'That's what most of the time machines have, but it's limiting.'

Bulma looked up at him, taken back. ' _Most_ of the time machines? Just how many have you encountered?'

Vegeta looked annoyed at himself and bit his lip before muttering 'A few. It's irrelevant.'

Bulma stared at him hard before deciding that this probably _was_ irrelevant for the time being, but made a mental note to chase it up with him later. She turned her attention back to the list of string entries. Scrolling down, approximately two thirds of the way down the simply huge page of data, the text colour changed from black to blue. She guessed this is how many jumps were left.

'The problem is, I have no idea how to interpret any of this data into "vibrational frequencies" as you say. I don't even know how to detect them.' She was beginning to feel both chagrin and panic settle on her. This other Bulma had been a clever bitch, cleverer than her perhaps; not only inventing a time machine but one-upping her by thinking up a timeline navigational device that Bulma didn't have the faintest clue how she would replicate. 'I really, really hope you're whole plan doesn't hang on me being able to read these entries and go "yep, clear as day, I'm on it!"'

Vegeta's expression was clouded. 'Not quite. Go up a level.'

Returning to the root level of the remote she saw another directory called Backup. Inside were more directories labelled Schematics, Systems, Programs, and Notes. Bulma's pulse quickened with excitement.

'Don't tell me it's all here!' she said, diving into the schematics directory. Diagrams and blueprints filled her screen and she squealed with joy.

'It's not all there.'

'What?'

'It's not…all…there.'

'Well what are these then?'

'It's kind of the owners handbook. It's a lot of stuff, but not absolutely everything you need to know to build one of your own. The notes section was written by another version of you. A younger version of you, by the way, who had never even dreamed of a time machine. She helped me get the thing running again after Cell fried it. Even with the data on there she found it hard. I'm hoping that you won't be in so far over your head as she was. But I know that this doesn't cover everything.'

'Why didn't you just use the co-ordinates to go back to your own timeline once it was fixed?'

'Because I didn't have that information then. Look at the columns on those co-ordinate entries – the first entry is number fourteen. Backing up the jump data on the remote was the idea of that younger Bulma's after she saw what a pile of crap I'd gotten into.'

Crossing her fingers Bulma adjusted her expectations and settled in, absorbing knowledge, flicking between files, impatient for understanding. After about ten minutes she sensed Vegeta drift away but was too intent to take any notice of where he went and what he was doing. In fact it was a couple of hours before she noticed anything other than the puzzle on her laptop. Wow. So clever, so infuriatingly advanced.

'Bulma, it's bedtime!'

She glanced up to see Vegeta standing in front of her with his arms crossed in front of his chest. The too-small T-shirt was coming apart at the shoulder, it was under such strain.

'That shirt's way too small,' she said, surfacing from contemplating this alternate code to initiate the time drive.

'You think?'

'We should get you some new clothes at the market tomorrow, if we can afford some.'

'What time is the market?'

'Morning, from eight till eleven.'

'All the more reason to go to bed and get some rest then.'

Bulma looked down at the laptop again, and the mysteries she'd barely tapped. 'You go to bed. I think I'll keep going a while longer.'

'You're sitting in my bedroom.'

'Use my room. Much more comfortable.'

He grunted and turned away.

* * *

Some hours later Bulma heard stirring from the bedroom. Her neck was stiff, her fingers cold. She probably should have gone to bed a couple of hours ago. She glanced at the time on the laptop and started. When she turned to see Vegeta shuffle into the room a muscle in her back spasmed painfully.

Vegeta looked bleary and surprised. He was shirtless and rubbing his hands though his hair. Bulma was almost, but not quite, too tired to appreciate the sight of his torso; not a skerrick of fat for his muscles to hide behind. Neither did she miss the extra scars he now carried. There was a livid red one round stretching from under one pectoral down, round his ribs to his kidney. Vegeta scowled, and she recalled her attention to his face.

'Woman, you didn't go to bed did you?'

'Not yet.'

'Do you have any idea what time it is?'

'Do you?'

'Late enough for me to be ready to start the day. The clock on the oven says five thirty.'

'Really, that late! I had no idea,' she lied. 'I'll just head to bed now for a couple of hours.' She turned the laptop off hurriedly.

'Woman, there is no point exhausting yourself at this stage' he growled.

'I want my son back as soon as possible!'

'That's foolish. The one thing we have lots of is time. It's more important not to screw it up.'

She glared at him. 'A few hours missed sleep won't screw anything up.'

Vegeta glared back, then shook his head, hissing with annoyance. 'Any time, any universe, you're always the same!' He strode through the living area, heading for the door. 'I'm going out to find some of those fish. When I get back we're going to the market.' Then he swept out the door.

Bulma made faces at his retreating back. There were more scars on that too. She dragged herself into the bedroom and fell into bed. Too late she remembered that he had just been sleeping in it – it was still warm and it smelled of him. For some reason this filled her with rage.

'Don't tell me what to do mister!' she muttered.

An hour and a half later Vegeta was knocking on the door, and Bulma still hadn't managed to fall asleep. However, she wasn't going to let him have the satisfaction of knowing she was bone tired. So she faked being deeply refreshed by the nap and dragged herself into the shower.


	15. Commerce, Malaise and Gin

People stared at the couple everywhere they went in the market. Bulma could see them muttering to each other, eyes on Vegeta. Of course they all knew who she was. Pretty much everyone knew who everyone one was, hence the interest in Vegeta, the stranger. The fact that they also seemed nervous she put down to his striking an intimidating figure, even in Trunks's old clothes. The pair of massive, dolphin sized fish that he was dragging around with ease was probably a bit alarming also.

The clothes situation they were trying to rectify now.

'Ellie, do you have any clothes that would suit my friend?' she asked a middle aged woman who favoured henna red hair and a colourful patchwork dress. Ellie had a treadle-powered sewing machine, other sewing tools and a stockpile of thread. She repaired, remade and reworked old clothes or any other fabric she could find or that people would bring to her.

She looked Vegeta up and down, obviously more questions in mind than whether he would suit one of her creations.

'I have something. Whether it suits him or not…I see you're trading fish today?'

'That's right.'

'Wow. Pretty big fish to be lugging around Mister. Where do you find your friends Bulma?'

'What do you mean?'

'Well, he's another inhumanly strong one! First Gohan, then your own son, now this guy! What's your name?' she asked Vegeta.

Vegeta stared stonily back.

'His name is – ' began Bulma, but Vegeta cut her off.

'I'm not in the mood for mindless chitter chatter. Do you have any clothes for me or not, woman?'

Ellie blanched, and turned away to rifle though her basket. When she turned back she had red spots in each cheek and her eyes flashed. She passed the clothes over to Bulma, avoiding looking at Vegeta. Bulma felt her own cheeks pinken with embarrassment.

Vegeta took hold of the first thing on the pile – a shirt of various creams and whites. It had a closed front with a V-neck and a cord to tie the V closed.

'That'll do. But not these! Ridiculous!'

He tossed back at Ellie a pair of jeans that had been extensively patched with blue and green fabric. 'I'd look like a court fool in those!'

'Vegeta!' hissed Bulma.

'What?'

'Don't be so bloody rude!'

'To who?'

'To Ellie!'

'I wasn't even talking to her.'

'That's obvious!' She turned to Ellie. 'I'm sorry for the treatment my friend is giving you. He's not used to _people_.' Ellie raised her eyebrows and retreated to the neighbouring stall and it's owner.

'People are going to think you some barbarian!'

'I truly don't care what these people think of me,' he said, holding up a pair of trousers reworked from a heavy dark blue boiler suit. 'What does it matter?'

'It matters because we're trying to trade with these people remember? You need trust to trade, and you need good relations to get the best trade. These people are my community, I have to keep coming back to them week after week, and they won't thank me for introducing a rude, high-handed bastard into their company! So please, I know it's a big ask for _you_ , but make an effort to be civil.'

Vegeta snarled, and the trousers ripped in his hands as if they were made of tissue paper. Bulma looked over at Ellie who was looking doubly insulted now.

'We'll pay for those!' called Bulma, but then whipped her head back round as Vegeta stepped in close to growl at her.

'Maybe you should come here on your own in the future if you're think it so important to be _civil_.'

'Maybe I'll have to. But it had been my plan that you do the trading at the market from now on, while I stay at home and work on the you-know-what! A much more efficient use of our time, don't you think?'

Vegeta looked even more pissed off as he considered this thought, his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed, but he backed down, muttering in a voice laden with loathing 'I can't believe it has come to this! To _shopping_ of all things!' He turned back to Ellie.

'Seamstress woman, we would like to purchase this shirt and these pants,' he said. 'Please.'

Ellie walked stiffly over. 'Would you like me to repair the pants, seeing as you've just destroyed them? It'll cost extra.'

'Name your price.'

'Half of one of those fish,' she said, with a calculating eye on Vegeta. It was a brazenly high price, and Bulma opened her mouth to bargain her down, but Vegeta beat her to it.

'It's a deal.'

Using the machete that Bulma had brought along for this purpose he sliced the fish in half like it was a sardine instead of a monster and passed the head end over to Ellie who staggered under the weight. As she went to wrap it up Bulma said to him softly 'Those clothes weren't worth that much!'

'Bulma,' he said quietly back, 'these fish are worth nothing to me, other than the few minutes I took to catch them. I don't care.'

'Oh.'

'Now is there anyone else who sells clothes here?'

She sent him off alone to the other end of the market while she waited for Ellie to mend the pants. The market was in the shade of a mature wood, sheltered from sight from above by the branches, but lots of space and head room under them. Bulma realised that if the androids truly had changed their ways then this market would no longer have to be hidden – it could take place out in the open under the sun.

The man from the next stall who Ellie had been talking to came over while Ellie sat down at the sewing machine.

'John, how's it going?'

'Can't complain! Twins are doing well. How's your Trunks?'

Bulma couldn't hide the spanner this threw into her composure. 'Oh. You know. I think he's all right. He's gone away for a while.'

John, nodded, looking only a little worried. Trunks was a concern of everyone – he was their protector and shield from the androids after all. Again, Bulma realised that if the androids were no longer a threat, then people wouldn't have the stress of relying on a single person for their ongoing existence.

'Well, it's a difficult time, the teenage years. He's growing up…he's not having a problem with your new fella, is he?'

'What?'

'Your new fancy man who was here just now.'

Bulma blushed. 'What makes you think we're a couple?' she said testily.

'I can tell.' He tapped the side of his nose in a knowing manner. 'I can always tell.'

'Oh really? Well, you're wrong this time.'

'He's just a friend then?'

'Yes. Acquaintance really.'

'If you say so. I thought I detected a little _frission_. Potential passion, perhaps?'

'John!'

John grinned. 'After you bought the nut meal from Pansy she was over here. She agreed with me also. Wouldn't it be nice to see Ms Briefs happy and settled with a bloke?'

'Well that isn't going to happen! If anything Vegeta and I are ex-es!'

'Ah, old flames.'

'John!'

John laughed at the effect his teasing was having. 'So this Vegeta, is he staying with you?'

'Yes,' replied Bulma, blushing again and knowing that no matter what she said now, she was just making grist for the rumour mill. 'He's lost his home, so he's staying with me until he can get back on his feet.'

'I heard you moved back to Capsule Corp?'

'That's right.'

'That "Vegeta" has a bit of a look about Gohan about him,' said Ellie from behind the sewing machine. 'Are they related?'

Bulma puzzled. 'In a manner. Not closely.'

'Is he from that area? From Paozu Mountain?'

'Yes,' said Bulma. It was as good an explanation as any. Prince Vegeta from Planet Vegeta had never been an easy explanation for people to swallow at the best of times.

'I guess that explains why we've not seen him around.'

'I don't know,' said John. 'The colouring is completely different, but he reminds me more of Trunks than Gohan.'

Ellie held up the mended pants and Bulma darted forward to take them, determined to keep her face neutral after John's last observation.

'Thanks Ellie, and sorry again. He really is a jerk, but he doesn't know any better. Right, got to go, got stuff to do! See you both!'

* * *

Back at home Bulma moved her operation into the lab. Vegeta cleaned up for her some more, then butchered the fish into steaks. Lunch was fried fish steak. Later on he disappeared and Bulma hear the shrieking of metal from above ground. Running up the steps with fearful eyes she saw that he was twisting part of one of the hoverjet chassis into a grill. Or at least that's what he said it was. Bulma couldn't see it herself, but she went back inside. Later the smells of woodsmoke filtered down. That night they had chargrilled fish steak.

The next day was similar, and the next, and the one after that. They settled into a routine. Vegeta would be awake first usually, and fix breakfast. Bulma would eat and head immediately into the lab. She would break for lunch, and eat whatever Vegeta had made, usually above ground in the sun before going back down and working through until dinner. If Vegeta cooked dinner it would consist mostly of chargrilled animal protein, so sometimes she cooked instead in an effort to keep variety in their diet. Then after dinner she would go back to the lab until bedtime, when Vegeta would remind her that she needed to sleep. Sometimes she would obey, and other times she would resist, feeling just like she did when she was a young teenager and he father tried to make her leave the lab when she was wrapped up in her pet projects. On these nights she would drag herself to bed in the small hours, trying not to wake Vegeta and induce a scolding, and sleep on the single bed in the living area.

Vegeta she would send on whatever small errand she could think of. But frequently there was nothing. He fished, he hunted, he cooked, but a lot of the time he was gone, and she was not sure where. She worried a little; she felt like he might be avoiding her, but it was his free time, and he was an adult. He could do whatever he liked with it.

She got used to him being there. Frequently she forgot that he was the same Vegeta who gleefully slaughtered a village of Namekians, who had wanted to be nothing more or less than the perfect warrior, or, although the details may have been different, who had taken her on a journey of lust-driven carnal exploration. Occasionally she remembered these things with a jolt, usually when he was handing her a grilled cheese and nutbread sandwich or something else completely innocuous. If she'd never known him before it would have been like having a particularly bad tempered housekeeper and cook. When she thought about it (and that was not very often, as mostly her brain was whirling at full speed with the complexities of the time machine) she knew that Vegeta must be very bored being merely an accessory to the building of the time machine.

There approached a day when she needed to use the anti-static booth that Trunks had broken on the day she'd sent him into the ether. She needed sheet glass to fix it, and didn't want to have to manufacture it.

Bulma ventured above ground to look for Vegeta. Wandering round the compound calling his name, she wondered if he'd gone off somewhere again, but eventually heard him reply from a stand of young trees next to what used to be the tennis courts. When she got there she saw him sitting on a rusted park bench, working at a sturdy stick with a knife, and strips of wood and bark everywhere.

'What are you doing?'

'Making a bow.'

'As in a bow and arrow? Why?'

'For hunting of course.'

'But you don't need a bow and arrow to hunt! Don't you just swoop down and break the deers' necks?'

'Of course I don't need it! But that's too easy. This way, it'll take longer, and give the game a fighting chance.'

'But…why would you want to do that?'

He looked up at her, then quickly away, as if he regretted doing so. 'For fun! To pass the time! To inject some sort of challenge into my otherwise domesticated life.' Suddenly the knife caught on a burr on the shaft of the bow and dug in deep, and Vegeta accidentally hewed the end off his bow.

'Dammit!' He threw the ruined bow to the ground where Bulma saw several other attempts lying.

'I'm sorry. This must be pretty boring for you, just waiting for me to make this machine.'

He grunted in agreement, keeping his head down, eyes on the broken bow. It occurred to Bulma that he actually looked sad. Not angry, not malcontent, just sad. It reminded her of Trunks, when he was low, feeling the weight of responsibility and grief. Her heart squeezed with sympathy suddenly.

'I haven't been paying you much attention,' she said, walking to his side. And then, hesitating for a second, she gently put a hand on his shoulder, saying 'I didn't realise you might be unhappy.'

Vegeta went rigid under her hand, and he swivelled his head to look up at her. His eyes were wide with what was unmistakeable incredulous scorn. He stood up and away from her in a flash.

'You do your job Woman, and I'll do mine, and we'll leave it at that.'

Bulma gulped in surprise, abashed by her own misreading of the situation.

'Now what did you come up here to bother me about?'

'It doesn't matter. I'll do it myself if you'd rather not be bothered.' As she said this she was aware of both her hurt tone and manipulative phrasing, which annoyed her, because that was not her. She blushed hard, getting angry.

'Don't be foolish Woman. What is it that you need me to do?'

'Forget it! I don't want to _impose_ upon you.'

'You're only imposing your silliness on me. I've had jack all to do today, so tell me what it is you need me to do, what trivial fetch and carry task or heavy lifting you need, because it's the least I can do, and the _only_ thing I can do!' This he said without actually looking at her.

'All right then, jerk! I need plate glass. Three panes, at least three feet by three feet. If you can find some intact windows, that would be good. Probably be easiest to bring them back in their frames. Aluminium windows are probably your best bet.' She handed over a collection of screwdrivers, slapping them into his hand, not sure if she was more hurt or angry.

'All right then. I'll see what I can do.'

'Vegeta, would you take this?' She held out a device in her hand that looked like a small ugly cell phone.

He glanced from the device to her and back again. 'What is it?'

'A radio. Of sorts. Not really, it doesn't use radio waves and it doesn't have such limitations on reception, but it works in a similar way.'

Vegeta picked it up gingerly.

'It's not like I want to keep tabs on you. But I could let you know when I need you so you don't need to always be hanging close by here if you don't want. And it could save time when I send you out to get stuff, if you need clarification, or something comes up.'

'Of course.' He tucked it into his pocket with the screwdrivers, still not looking at her. 'See you before dinner hopefully.'

As he blasted off into the sky Bulma's thoughts for once were not crowded with the inner workings of time machines. She felt embarrassed and hurt. She'd let the physical similarity between Vegeta and Trunks confuse her and make her forget whom she was dealing with. But to reject her so harshly! That _stung_. She was only offering sympathy for god's sake! Her embarrassment deepened when she wondered if he'd thought she'd been offering more. Maybe he did? That was mortifying, but then so was his reaction if that was the case. Was it such a terrible thought to him? Did he find her old or repulsive compared to his own Bulma?

She wandered back to the lab, but then unable to concentrate on her work she ended up in front of the bathroom mirror. Her hair was still thick and blue. It was also long and tangled, but she was a busy woman with things on her mind other than hairstyling. She wasn't fat. If anything she was possibly a little scrawny. She'd lost some fullness from her breasts, there was no denying that, and the hollow at the base of her throat looked too deep, the tendons of her neck too visible. Well perhaps she should make a bit more effort at the dinner table for a while.

The skin of her face was not the even porcelain thing it had once been. There were freckles and uneven tones there now, although these were not as offensive as the crow's feet or the now permanent lines across her brows. The skin under her chin was loose. If that were just tighter or somehow shrunk then she'd look ten years younger already! Then she crossed her arms, angry with herself. There was no plastic surgery in this post-apocalyptic world, and she wouldn't get any more youthful by wishing for something impossible. And it certainly wouldn't bring her son back.

As a special treat to cheer Vegeta, and to begin her new program of weight gain, and because she still couldn't settle on her work, she decided to use some of her super-precious evaporated cane sugar to make a dessert. It was a hazelnut and coffee gateau, hazelnuts and nutmeal being one thing they had a lot of. Add to those cream, coffee, eggs and the sugar, and hey presto, she could produce a very fancy and delicious dessert from the rather limited ingredients of her kitchen. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had any wheat flour. Maybe if she couldn't impress Vegeta with her face she could impress him with a pretty gateau.

She pulled herself up short on that thought. Why was she trying to impress Vegeta? He wasn't hers to impress. That's not what the aim was here. And yet…

His rejection of her had hurt. Was it just vanity that made her want to turn his head? When they'd walked through the market together with everyone turning to stare and whisper to each other, she couldn't deny that some part of her was preening that the specimen she had brought along was so fine. As if he _was_ hers. Some part of her felt that that he still was hers, but this man had never been hers. This man wouldn't even _look_ at her most of the time. It made her feel hideous, especially as, when she looked at him, she wanted to drink him in with her eyes - just stare at him and remember what he was like, wonder what could have been. Would he have really gotten in that spaceship and never come back? Her Vegeta was dead and gone. She'd cried over him a long time ago, and she was never going to get him back.

With this miserable thought she put the gateau in the fridge, poured herself some Shonky Sharrudin's damson gin and lay down on the couch for a self pitying weep.

* * *

Vegeta heard music before he even touched down in the garden. He brought the awkward window frames he'd been carrying down into the lab and was surprised to find neither Bulma nor the source of the music there. Going halfway back up the steps and then turning into the short tunnel that led to the house he came up short. Bulma was dancing in the middle of the living area, her back to him. The music was some old Earth band, vaguely familiar to him for their mawkish sentimentality and the lead singer's whining voice. Bulma was singing along at the top of her voice, arms in the air, gesturing wildly and swinging her hips about. He'd never seen any Bulma do this for a long, long time, and the whole effect was rather amusing.

'Woman! I'm home!'

Bulma screamed and pirouetted on the spot, nearly losing her balance. She rushed to turn the music down.

'Been productive while I've been gone have you?'

Bulma made a face. 'Well _actually_ I set the computer to compile the program for initiating the time drive, so I can't do anything more till it's finished.' This was true. She had taken a break after the first cry and the first gin to launch the compile. It had been ready for a couple of days, but she'd been waiting for a good opportunity to launch it as it meant some downtime, and that downtime may as well be when she was upset and having her own little Bulma-Support party.

'Did you make dinner?' he asked.

'Yeeesss!' she said, teetering to the stove where mashed potatoes and venison casserole were keeping warm.

'Have you been drinking?'

'Yeeeesss! A little bit. Want some?' She shook a hand labelled bottle of who-knows-what in front of him.

Vegeta frowned. He didn't as a rule, drink, because a perfect warrior didn't compromise himself like that. But this evening he felt he could do with that numbness on his tongue, in his brain. Yes, he'd like to be numb tonight, and right now he felt like he was at the smallest party in the world and just not getting into it. 'All right.'

This answer seemed to please Bulma, and she grinned naughtily as she poured him a little tumbler-full. Then she served dinner while he sipped the mystery liquid. It was fiery, but sweet and a little fruity, and he had no idea what it was. He didn't know enough about liquor to tell. His own Bulma hadn't drunk much either, at least, not once she was older. When he'd first met her she'd gotten belligerently, extravagantly drunk on a few occasions, but that was a long time ago. He hoped that wasn't still the habit of this one.

Dinner was good, and he said so.

'Good,' she smiled. 'Nice to know I haven't lost the old culinary touch.'

He told her about the windows.

'Excellent, I can get right on with it tomorrow then.' She smiled again. 'Anything else out there to report?'

He wondered why she was so chipper. Had his departure elevated her into a state of happiness? Was it the drink? He took another sip. Already he could feel it relaxing his face, his tongue felt clumsy.

'Not a lot. I saw only two other people the whole time I was out there.'

There was more to the truth than that. He'd felt like the loneliest man in the world, running away from the only other person who could keep him company. He'd seen the sun setting gloriously, and it had depressed him as if his heart was buried somewhere underground. But he wasn't going to say that.

'We should eat dinner outside,' he said. 'It's nice out there.'

Bulma looked surprised but pleased. 'Good idea!'

They took their plates and glasses and the bottle up and sat on the large flat foundation of what used to be her mother's garden shed where they sometimes had their lunches. The sun was still golden, but it was now tinged with orange, as were the clouds. Dragonflies were swooping low over the long grass, catching the light, and crickets sang. The concrete foundation they sat on was toasty with the heat it had stored during the day. It was very pleasant indeed.

Bulma had stopped smiling. 'Sometimes when I come out here I can't believe this is the same place that I grew up. When it looks like this, the wilderness is kind of beautiful, but it's a sad beauty knowing what used to be here.'

Vegeta grunted acknowledgement.

'But I forgot,' she added. 'This place used to be your home too.'

'I almost don't recognise it as my home at all. For me this doesn't even seem like the real world. I've been so far from home, for so long, this place is just another empty shell, like an oyster with no pearl in it. No oyster in it either.' Now what on Earth had possessed him to say that?

'Oh,' said Bulma, deflated.

It had hurt her feelings, of course it did. Very well, it was probably for the best anyway. They ate in silence, Bulma finishing first, but not long before, despite Vegeta having a massive Saiyan-sized portion to get through. She sipped her drink and lay back on the concrete with her eyes closed. He wondered if she would cheer up again. It had been like the sun coming out from behind a cloud for a short while and then going away again.

 _Don't think things like that!_ he told himself sternly. _It's not helping!_ More numb, that's what he needed. He drank the last mouthful of the spirit and could already feel its heat creeping through him, loosening his muscles, loosening his tongue. He poured himself another glass. He looked over at Bulma and felt his heart contract. Her blue hair was splayed across the slab, and a strand of it curled around her throat where her pulse beat, clear and steady. Her pink lips were pouting with sadness, there were two lines furrowed between her brows. She was beautiful, and she was sad after all.

 _And why should that be surprising?_ he chided himself. He couldn't tear his eyes off her. When she had her eyes closed he couldn't force himself to. He just wanted to stare. He took another swig and wished the drink to work. Her face was a trap that he'd just let himself be lured into. Where was his willpower?

And like a trap, it then sprung. She opened her eyes, looking directly into his, leaning over her.

With a lurch he turned away.

'Nice dinner,' he said again. He didn't want to upset her more today. But best to keep the observations impersonal.

She snorted.

'What?' he asked.

' _Nice_ dinner, it's _nice_ out…I think that _nice_ might be the only pleasant adjective you know to use. Although, that's still one more than the Vegeta I used to know.'

'Huh,' he said, realising she was having a laugh at him. 'Well I never claimed to be a poet.'

She burst out laughing. Despite himself he turned back to watch the wide grin and her eyes half closed with mirth. Her laughter warmed his skin like the sparks from a firework that he was sitting too close to. Kami, what was in this drink? It seemed to be having the opposite of the desired effect!

'That's true, you never did!' she said. 'Are you still hungry? I made dessert.' She jumped to her feet then, and was so obviously eager to please that for a second Vegeta was thrown by a recollection not of his wife but of his daughter when she was a little girl.

'I could do dessert, by all means,' he said. She flitted away, almost skipped through the grass, Bra to a tee. The knife twisted again in Vegeta's chest and he lay back on the concrete struggling to breathe on past the pain. 'You are true torture,' he said aloud. 'Almost all I want, not all I want.' His little girl's voice echoed through his mind.

'Daddy, Daddy, come see what I made you!'

* * *

She returned with the gateau balanced on one hand and plates and forks in the other. Vegeta was staring out at where the sun had sunk below the horizon, sipping from his glass. The clouds were turning pink now, the blue above deepening. Bulma cut fat slices of cake and passed one over. Then she went to top up her glass from the gin bottle and found there was only a shots worth left in the bottle.

'You've been getting through this well,' she said.

'I'm trying to get drunk,' he said solemnly.

She watched him load his fork with a massive chunk of cake and guide it to his mouth with an unsteady hand. He got cream on his nose.

'I think you may have succeeded.'

He wiped the cream from his nose and kept eating.

She sighed and tucked into her cake as well, and they ate in silence. Vegeta cut himself another slice and she pushed her own plate forward for another piece. She was surprised at her own appetite. Perhaps it was the drink? Or perhaps it was her lack of appetite since Trunks's departure? Or both wrapped up together? She mentally estimated how long it would be till the machine was finished again. Assuming she could figure out how to translate the co-ordinates into actual vibrational signatures then it might only be another two months. The schematics and the notes, building on her existing knowledge helped a great deal. And in a way, not having Trunks here was helping – she could devote much more time to working on it. In fact, perhaps she should be less worried about Trunks being in the past than when he was here in the present?

But wait! Her eyes flew open in terror.

'Vegeta! I just had this thought! If I'm successful with this time machine, why isn't Trunks back already? Wouldn't we have just set his time machine, or this one, to come back soon after he left? But he's not here! I must fail!'

Vegeta passed a hand over his face as if trying to rub it to life. 'No, we wouldn't, so quit the hysterics.'

'Why wouldn't we?'

'Because I wouldn't let you. Where's your motivation for finishing the damn thing once Trunks is home?'

'Uh. I guess it becomes less important then.'

'Exactly. And I don't want to wait around any longer than I have to.'

Bulma was hurt again. She remembered why she made the cake in the first case and it seemed pretty laughable now. 'I guess you _really_ want to get home.'

'Idiot woman, haven't I already said so?' He dropped his fork which tinkled away. 'Dammit.' Reaching out behind him he lost his balance and ended up on his back. He cast one arm over his eyes and lay there.

'Like the damson gin did you?' she asked him.

'Is that what it was? Tolerable.'

'And the cake?'

'Good.'

'Your Bulma must be something special then, if you can't stand any delay in getting home to her.'

'I had a life with her. We had history, and kids.'

Bulma nodded to herself, trying to be philosophical about the situation, about the unexpected jealousy she felt. It was great that he felt this way. Amazing, really. Only in her wildest dreams had she imagined a Vegeta dedicated to her and their family. Still her vanity must be assuaged.

'How old is your Bulma?'

'I can't remember.'

'What? Typical man! Worse than typical! You can't remember your girlfriend's age?'

'Now wait, let me work it out…last time I saw her it was not long after Trunks's thirtieth birthday, so she was…sixty two, sixty three earth years?'

Bulma felt warm satisfaction fill her stomach like hot tea on a cold day. His Bulma was much older then her. Then shock brought her up short – if Vegeta had been travelling for ten years, and he was a year older than her anyway, that meant the man lying next to her was well over seventy! She gasped out loud, eyes looking at Vegeta afresh, looking for the signs of age upon him. Yes, he looked older than when she's known him, but not much older. She'd have guessed early forties, and that was knowing how he'd looked when he was in his mid thirties – if she didn't know that she'd probably guess no more than forty.

'What is it?' he asked, looking out from under his arm.

'Saiyans don't age at the same as Earthlings, do they?'

'It would seem not. But like his hair, once a Saiyan reaches adulthood, he doesn't change.'

'What is the life expectancy of a Saiyan then?'

'I don't honestly know. Not many Saiyans died of old age from what I remember.'

The dusk was deepening and cooling off. Bulma swatted a mosquito that landed on her arm, only to notice she'd already been bitten several times. She looked down at the man, wondering if he was made as vulnerable by the drink as he seemed. She still wanted to know why he'd reacted so badly to her sympathy earlier. She was younger than his Bulma...was she also different? She decided to dress up a prodding as an apology.

'Sorry about before.'

'What before?'

'For trying to comfort you earlier today at the tennis court. I thought I knew how you might be feeling.'

Vegeta didn't move but became very still. A long moment passed without him taking the bait, so she decided to push it out a little further.

'It's just you reminded me so much of Trunks at that moment. When he gets overwhelmed with the weight of the world and the role he must play in it.'

Vegeta sighed. 'Don't worry about me Woman. It's only self pity weighing me down. A calamity of my own making.'

'Well, I sympathise with you on that even.'

'I can't accept your sympathy.'

'But why not?' she asked, sensing that he had finally taken the lure, but another long silence stretched out. It was not a comfortable one – Vegeta had become rigid, his fists curled so tight that the tendons in one hand popped audibly. She could see his jaw flew and relax over and over again, but he still had his arm over his eyes. As the seconds stretched out past a minute she got angry. 'I asked why not?'

'Leave it,' he said.

'Not worth an answer, eh? Why can't you just tell me? Is it really so awful to let me lay a hand on you in comfort?'

He sat up sharply on his elbows, glaring at her with pinkened eyes, his expression blurry and belligerent. 'Is it really so hard for you to LEAVE ME ALONE?'

Bulma gasped from the sudden hurt, but came back swinging. 'This is MY home! If my presence is so intolerable why don't _you_ piss off?'

'Fine, I think I will!' He flicked up onto his feet and would have fallen straight back over if he hadn't caught himself on a cushion of his own chi. He took off into the sky unsteadily, as if it was full of giant invisible balloons pushing him around, but he steadily put on speed until he zoomed over the trees that lined what used to be the front drive, listing dangerously.

'You're flying drunk you crazy fool!' yelled Bulma, then smacked her fist against the concrete, torn between anger and amusement.

She returned to the lab, concentrating on fixing the anti static booth rather than any task that might require her full, un-intoxicated attention. By ten o'clock or so she'd finished and he was still not back. She felt a twinge of worry. By midnight she had ceased the pretence of working to worry full time. It hadn't been his habit so far to stay up this late at all. It briefly crossed her mind to call him on the communicator she gave him, but then stopped herself. He was not only an adult, but completely invulnerable, being the strongest thing on the planet. If he wanted to sulk by himself in the wilderness, who was she to complain or fret? Only…

It wasn't truly worry over his safety that was gnawing at her. It was worry that he really didn't like her, that for some reason he couldn't stand her. It hurt, more than she wanted to admit, far more than she thought it should.

She turned in for bed. She'd been sleeping on the trundle bed in the lounge ever since she stayed up all night that first time. He'd have to pass right by her to get to the bedroom. She lay down and closed her eyes, but instead of sleeping she found herself listening for any sound of his return.

'Stop it, stop it!' she told herself sternly, but her mind refused to be turned from its fixation. Instead it reviewed the past weeks, looking for clues as to why he might reject her. She just couldn't accept the thought that he found her repellent, not when she found him so…attractive. Hadn't his double been hers? Hadn't his wife been a carbon copy of herself?

Her mind turned way back, flicking through the years to the first instance the improbable idea of their relationship occurred to her. She had still been with Yamcha, and had only just gotten him back from the dead, and so she should have been too deliriously happy with that fact to notice anyone else. And she was happy. But that day when Vegeta had called her from the spaceship parked in the garden to say that the variable gravity was malfunctioning, and in a bad temper she'd come up from the lab, her heart was unguarded and her body quite ignorant to her relationship status.

It had been a hot day, and she had been wearing just a strapless top and a pair of short turquoise colour shorts. Inside the ship it was hotter still and more humid. Sweat sprang out on her forehead almost as soon as she stepped in the door. The 'malfunction' appeared to be a direct hit on the control panel from massive blunt force. Vegeta lay on the floor, covered in sweat and still breathing heavily from whatever he'd been doing before he'd broken the gravity room.

'Why did you do that?' she'd snarled at him. 'The panel isn't designed to take a full force attack! I don't know how many times you've been told!'

'It wasn't a full force attack Woman! If it had been do you think the central column would still be there? Or the city on the other side of the wall?'

She stooped to the access panel near the floor, popped it open and turned off the power to the central column. 'Well even a mild attack then! God, you'd think you were breaking this on purpose!' She stood again and wheeled around to confront him, but her next accusation fell out of her head when she saw his face. He was propped on one elbow, looking at her with a curiously softened expression, his mind obviously not on what she was saying. Her body recognised what was going on instantly, and a jolt of exhilaration, like a rollercoaster dropping into a big dip hit her in the stomach, spreading warm fingers of lust through her body.

The moment lasted only a second. Vegeta focused, gathering his wits and reforming his expression into a scowl.

'Of course I didn't do it on purpose, idiot woman!' he said gruffly. 'Why would I want this inconvenient pause in my training?'

He was getting to his feet. Bulma's eyes followed him, unable to quite ignore his naked torso now, feeling uncomfortably self-conscious of her skimpy outfit, knowing that despite the heat of the day her nipples were probably now making perky little mounds in her top. Her brain scrambled to get into gear. She turned her back as she felt a blush come on, and knelt to look into the exposed panel. _What just happened?_ demanded her brain. _What just happened? Did what we think just happened actually happen?_

She grabbed a tool at random and began moving it around in the space, realised she couldn't see anything and turned back to the toolbox for a flashlight. Leaning in she realised she was probably giving him a choice view of her backside in these shorts. She imagined she could feel his gaze on her like hot little hands, a thought which gave her another jolt. With her face safely hidden inside the column she allowed herself a grin of pleasure. 'The Prince of All Saiyans going all dreamy on me huh?' she mused silently. _Well, I guess it's only natural he be attracted to me, I am, after all, very attractive._

He came closer, squatting down beside her though, which further put the finer points of electronics out of her mind.

'How long will this take Woman?'

This was the softest she'd ever heard him address her. 'Could be hours' she replied, mentally adding _but only if you keep standing there._ Out loud again she said 'No point in you hanging around.'

To her relief he didn't, wordlessly padding out of the ship. She watched him till he was out of sight, letting herself admire the taunt triangle of his back, criss-crossed here and there with scars, and the muscular buttocks and legs. She laughed for the flattery of his gaze, and her unexpected response to it. Of course, she'd thought he was attractive from the moment she had decided he was not in danger of murdering her and the planet; the day she'd invited him to come live at the Capsule Compound. She'd also teased him and flirted with him mercilessly these last couple of months, but only for the fun or it, because it was like flirting with a bad tempered brick wall. The thought that there might be anything soft to stir behind those hard agate eyes had never occurred to her. After the first few weeks of he and the Namekians living at the Capsule Compound, and the massive culture shock that entailed for everyone involved, she'd written him off as emotionally and sexually neutered, with no room for anything in his being besides pride, envy and brutal self discipline. Which is why she teased him – to take the air out of his puffery and sense of importance.

She spent the next hour working on the control panel while daydreaming of unlikely scenarios in which she and Vegeta would ever kiss, ever fall in love, ever end up in bed, laughing as each one failed to be credible. It was all so ludicrous! There was no way in hell there could ever be anything between her and that…what? Freak? Nutjob? Ex-Evil Henchman? Reformed Devourer of Planets?

That thought brought her up short.

Besides, she was in love with Yamcha! And had every expectation that he would soon propose to her, and she was very happy with that, thank you! She swiftly suppressed the thought that she'd just spend an hour fantasising about Vegeta before Yamcha even crossed her mind.

Lastly she replaced the smashed buttons and screen and closed the panel. All fixed. This hot moment with Vegeta didn't mean a damn thing – a mere animal reaction, which would probably never recur. And if it was anything more than that for Vegeta, which she doubted, given what she knew of him so far, it didn't matter, because she was Yamcha's girl, and a randy prince wasn't going to change that. She put the matter out of her mind and used the intercom to speak of the Capsule Compound staff.

'If anyone sees Vegeta can you let him know that the gravity function on the spaceship is fixed. Thank you.'

A week later when they'd tried to raise Goku from the dead with the Namekian dragon balls and discovered that he was out in space somewhere Vegeta had flung himself into the spaceship and taken off without a backwards glance, please or thank you. Bulma had merely sighed 'Goodbye spaceship, it was fun building you!' What more could one expect if one invites an emotionally stunted, ex-evil-henchman, alien prince to live in one's home? But she had a feeling he'd be back eventually. She was sure of it.


	16. Surprise Visitors

When Bulma woke it was already ten o'clock. She must have fallen asleep eventually, and now she'd overslept.

Jumping up expectantly to the kitchen bench she saw that her breakfast wasn't there. Her heart dropped. She went to the bedroom and the door was open and no-one was asleep in it. So he hadn't come back at all?

She made her own swift breakfast and went into the lab, comforting herself with the thought that he'd have to come back eventually, because how else were they going to get this machine finished? She squashed the sad little voice inside her that replied that this was only because he had to, and not for the pleasure of her company. She growled at herself, doing her best angry Vegeta impression. Her own pathetic thoughts were annoying her. Her job was about getting her son back, and Vegeta would be gone again as soon as she achieved that, so all this mooning over hurt feelings was pointless.

Today she used her particle isolatator inside the anti-static booth and got herself some xeon molecules in individual vacuum flasks. Then she transferred them one by one into her desktop particle accelerator. The accelerator was precious to her. Not only was it a scientific marvel and a boon, it was her 30th birthday present from her father. The genius of it was that rather than bending the path of the particle using electromagnets, it used a contained gravity field to curve the space inside the tube so that as far as the particle knew, it was flying in a straight line to infinity. Hence why the ring could be so small. The field was only narrow, and it kept pace with the particle, so that only a small section of the space inside was curved at anyone time. This was in fact the very inspiration for the time drive. She had figured out how to curve time as well as space in the same manner.

Today though she didn't need to accelerate or collide any particles, just use the sensors inside it to measure their vibrational frequencies. Once she had that data she could now use it for two separate tasks – work out how the data on the disk was encoded, and work out how to detect the frequency of one particle in the countless universes. It sounded bogglingly difficult, but Bulma refused to believe she wouldn't solve it.

She began writing a decryption program. Several hours later her stomach rumbled loudly and she noticed that it was five o'clock already. She'd worked right through lunch.

In the kitchen she stood, lost for a few minutes. She wondered if Vegeta would return at their usual dinner time, and whether she should make some for him also. She stared at the communicator in her hand. What if there really was something wrong? What if he were sick or something? She pressed hail and waited, but it only rang once.

'Is there something wrong?' came his voice, hoarse and blunt.

'No. Just…'

'Why are you calling then?'

Bulma felt her temper erupt faster than the gas burners on the stove top. 'To ask if _you're_ all right, though I'm not sure why I should care!'

'Don't be ridiculous! Why would there be anything wrong with me?'

'I don't know! Perhaps your prolonged unexplained absence had me concerned?'

'I thought I explained quite well.'

'When?'

'When I told you to leave me alone!'

'Screw you Vegeta! I though we were in this together! I thought we were helping each other!'

'You need me to keep house? To make coffee and sandwiches?'

'For a start!'

'Clean the dishes, make small talk and remind you to get some sleep?'

Bulma hesitated at the edge of steel in his voice. She sensed she was walking into a trap. 'Yes.'

'Don't worry Bulma, you'll get your housekeeper. Call me when something that actually needs my attention comes up.'

'What do you mean by that?' she blurted, but he had hung up.

In a foul mood she reheated the dregs of a fish soup Vegeta had made a few days ago (remarkably okay, but she was rather sick of fish) and ended up eating chunks of stale nutbread slathered with butter whilst typing on her laptop with one hand at the dining table. Market day was tomorrow. Without Vegeta she'd either have to go herself or try and make it through the week on what she had. But without the fish and game Vegeta had been bringing in, she had nothing to trade anyway. She supposed that if she actually started to starve to death Vegeta might consider that cause enough to come back.

Back on her laptop she continued to code away until her eyes started getting gritty. Finally she had finished the program and set it to decrypt. Just as she was about to shut the screen and go to bed she noticed that her laptop was showing a new device besides the time machine remote. Curious she mounted the device and saw it was named Majin. It had a 4 digit lock which she brushed aside so easily it didn't even register in her mind as security. The files inside revealed it to be some kind of PDA/cellphone hybrid– Vegeta's PDA she realised, which he must have left somewhere in the house. There was calling, browsing and messaging programs plus dozens of others or unknown purpose. The contacts list was very short. Herself, her mother and her father. Eighteen, Krillin. It broke her heart to see the Son household listed, and not just that, but Gohan and someone called Videl, so maybe his wife? Goten, who she didn't know either. Someone else called Hercule Satan, someone called Uub. At the top of the list was Bra, her phantom daughter. Looking at her name made Bulma feel strange. Empty. Unfinished. Like maybe she was living in a negative outcome universe where someone had never come home. Like maybe she was living in a far flung branch of a universe, when really where she should be was in the one this PDA came from.

Her curiosity drove her onwards. She knew she was invading his privacy, but he'd told her to keep away from him, not his stuff. And he'd been sloppy enough to leave this where she could get to it, so what did he expect?

There were some music files – a bunch of oldish rock and roll and a whole pile that Bulma had never heard of. Lastly she opened the image files. Inside was just around a hundred files. The first dozen were photos of cars in a show room. Muscle cars and convertibles, some of them hovercars and some old-school four wheelers. Typical man. And yet, still remarkable, as Vegeta had never been a typical man. The last one gave her a surprise – a blue haired girl was sitting at the wheel of one grinning and flashing the peace sign. For a second she thought it was her – that other Bulma couldn't be so youthful could she? Perfect pale skin, no creases in that face at all. Then she realised it must be Bra. She looked nearly exactly the same as Bulma had as a teenager. It was unnerving, and Bulma hurried on, afraid that if she stopped to examine the image closer she would become lost in strange emotions.

The next photo held another surprise. A large bathroom with every surface covered in tubes, trays and compacts of make up, brushes, combs, powder puffs, cotton balls, hair curlers, lash curlers and just about every beauty product under the sun. The girl, Bra, was slumped over the sink in apparent crisis, wearing just a robe and overdone racoon eyes, while in the reflection of the huge mirror could be seen Vegeta grinning evilly while taking the photo, and _herself_ , arms crossed in a definite stance of disapproval. She zoomed in on her face, but it was too blurry to make out a lot. This Bulma had very short, very styled hair, was still slim, still wore her hemline high.

Pressing on was another picture of Bra looking long suffering sitting infront of the bathroom mirror with eyes still red from crying but free of make up. The other Bulma was leaning over her, putting her hair up.

Then another one of the two of them together, dressed up this time, with their arms around each other's shoulders. Bra had on a strapless green party dress, flared from the waist, with a red belt and red kitten heels and a much happier expression. Her hair was curled and coifed and her make up was fresh and barely there. She was the prettiest, sweetest looking thing.

'Sweet Sixteen,' muttered Bulma without really knowing why, but the moment it popped out her mouth she was almost certain that what she was looking at was the preparation for Bra's sixteenth birthday celebrations. The Bulma in the photo looked proud. She wore shiny blue stilettos, a white, knee-length, sharply-cut sleeveless dress with bold abstract designs on it that screamed designer, and wide blue belt to match the shoes and a heavy gold necklace and bracelet. Her hair was severe, but fashionable. She could see her face clearly now. If this woman was sixty three years old she looked ten years younger at least. She had on slick red lipstick, eyeliner, and probably layers of foundation as well. But Bulma felt like she was looking at a stranger. She had never dressed like that, never worn jewellery like that, never done her hair like that, almost never worn shoes like that, never worn so much make up. The only thing that felt like her on the woman was the creases across her forehead and the crow's feet that the make up couldn't quite hide.

The effect was quite disorienting, looking at two unlikely and opposite versions of her own self: Bra's fresh, innocent beauty, and Bulma's cultured, hard-edged, sophisticated handsomeness.

Next was a photo of Bra and Trunks. Trunks was older, he smiled wearily into the camera while Bra hugged him tightly. It wasn't the weariness of the world like she was used to seeing in her own Trunks. There was more swagger in him. The sadness was missing.

She flipped though. A table of presents. The top floor of her parents house decorated with streamers and balloons. A table spread with food. Bra sipping from a champagne flute in exaggerated manner while she look the photo herself at arms length. Next came the photo of Eighteen with the blonde girl. The photo after made her burst out laughing. A short man, very short, with thick iron grey hair and a moustache was holding Eighteen's hand as they spoke to another couple who had their backs to the camera. So Krillin _was_ Eighteen's husband! And he had hair! And he was old, looking every bit of the sixty years he must be in this photo. That, to Bulma, was almost as unthinkable as his marrying a cyborg terror.

The next made her gasp also. Bra, who looked so much like herself as a teenager, was posing gleefully with Goku, looking just as he was had his twenties. The hair was wrong, it was cut short, and he was wearing a funky t-shirt and jeans, when Bulma had almost never seen Goku wear anything that wasn't a training uniform. He didn't just look unaged, he looked positively younger than last time she'd seen him, and how was that possible?

But no, something wasn't quite right. Vegeta may have cut his hair, but she couldn't imagine Goku ever cutting his hair – he would simply see no point. And this man held a cellphone in one hand, a technology that Goku had never mastered or seen a use for.

In the next photo he stood next to Chichi, with his arm around her shoulders. There was something about Chichi about him, seen next to her, not quite all Goku. The only conclusion she could draw was that they must have had a second son. This thought filled her with more sadness. Chichi looked shrunken and creased, but bold. Her prettiness had sharpened into something else too.

There was one of Vegeta on the balcony. He was wearing a tank top and shorts and manning a huge BBQ. He held a steak skewered on the end of his BBQ tongs and scowled at the camera.

There was one of Yamcha chatting to Launch, sitting on armchairs in the corner. Both of them looked grotesquely middle aged. Launch's face was sagged, her waist thicker and her legs scrawny. Yamcha was not fat, but the way he was sitting his soft gut spilled over his belt, his jawline had lost it's clean line, and his hair was receded, long and tied back in a leather lace. It was all a bit much to take in really. She'd last seen him still young and strong, in his prime. Who'd believe that this greaser was once one of Earth's strongest warriors? Time was cruel.

There was Gohan and a dark haired beautiful woman who she guessed was Videl. Gohan looked small under his suit, not the burly man she'd seen him become here. His hair cut was conservative, and already streaked with grey, and he was wearing glasses.

'I can't believe it; you became a scholar like your mother wanted!'

There were shots of people eating, talking, posing for the camera, Vegeta skulking in the background. It was obvious that he wasn't the one taking any of these photos.

There were a lot of shots of another teenaged girl – dark haired and pale skinned, a tomboy with coal black eyes. She favoured Chichi and Gohan strongly, but Bulma decided that she was probably Gohan's daughter rather than sister.

There were her parents sitting on a sofa looking tiny and wizened. Her father looked more absent that ever, his grey hair messed and his glasses on crooked. She worked out that he was probably a little over ninety in this picture. Her mother's face looked nearly the same as when she had last seen it, but stretched a little tighter, her lips a little distorted, and her make up a little thicker, but from the neck down she was a different story. Her breasts stood out starkly in the wrinkled, spotted skin of her cleavage.

'Oh fake breasts, Mother!'

The only person besides Vegeta who didn't look particularly different was Master Roshi. There was a rather unfortunate picture of Bra sitting on Master Roshi's knee, Bra smiling for the camera, Roshi looking down the front of her dress. Oolong looked on blearily from the sidelines.

'How bloody typical!'

The last photo wasn't a photo but a video. Bra was in the frame this time, talking animatedly to the young man who looked so much like Goku. Suddenly someone started singing 'Happy Birthday to You,' and the whole room joined in, crowding in towards Bra and turning to face the back of the room. Bulma could hear her own voice loud in the speaker. It was eerie and unnerving. Her mother stalked through the crowd bearing a large birthday cake and tottering unsteadily on four inch heels. The boy quickly cleared a spot on the table in front of them and helped her put the cake down. Bra looked around beaming at everyone, her eyes getting misty. When the song ended and she blew out the candles and the crowd cheered. 'Speech!' hooted the mystery Son boy. Trunks pushed into view and took up the chant. 'Speech, speech, speech, speech!'

The girl Bra blushed red and said 'Thank you all for coming to my party. It's really great that you all could make it. Um, thanks for all the great presents too. Especially thanks to Daddy for the new car!' The camera followed her as she skipped to the left and wrapped her arms around Vegeta's neck. Vegeta stood there stiffly with his arms folded, but Bra managed to bend him to her will and pull him down into the hug. This made Bulma raise her eyebrows. Just how strong was this little girl? She's always found Vegeta to be as bendable as solid steel if he didn't want to do something. Or was Vegeta just letting her have her way? Bra let go of him still beaming as if there was nothing unusual about having to force an embrace on your father, and turned to the girl next to her. 'Thank you Pan for the books!' and she hugged her too. Then she turned to the young man and her voice became throaty. 'And thank you Goten for the album. I'll treasure it always.' and she launched herself at him also. So this was Goten?

The panic on Goten's face was plain. He gave her the briefest of hugs in return, then stood there awkwardly as Bra held on for a lingering embrace, pressing the length of herself up against him. Goten looked over at Vegeta who was now looking murderous, and he held his arms out as if to say 'It's got nothing to do with me!' Just as Vegeta stepped towards them with a growl building in his throat Bra seemed to sense that her time was up and let go of Goten.

Bulma scanned the crowd in the scene. Where was Goku? She hadn't seen him anywhere.

'And of course, thanks to Mom for throwing me the best sixteenth birthday party ever!' She ran to the camera and the footage turned upside down and dark as the two hugged.

'No problem Sweetie,' was the muffled reply.

* * *

Bulma lay on the bench seat on the dining table crying. She had no idea how long for. It felt like hours. It felt like forever. The emotions that had bloomed inside her while she looked at the photos and video pierced her over and over, after each wave easing, only to bloom again, like some beautiful flower made of shards of glass and acid and poison. Grief was foremost, then bitter envy, but perversely, gladness was mixed in too. She was glad that such a life existed somewhere. Too bad it wasn't hers.

She wished she'd never snooped. She wished she had trusted Vegeta when he'd tried to keep her away from these photos. Of course that was why he'd not let her touch the thing when he'd shown it to Eighteen. He'd known it would tear her apart.

At some point she surfaced, from uneasy dreams or just deep and depressing thoughts she couldn't tell. There was a sound outside. Someone was coming down the stairs. Her heart began to beat away in panic. If it was Vegeta she didn't want to be caught looking at the photos and bawling her eyes out. And she heartily hoped it was Vegeta, because who else would it be?

Whoever it was walked down to the lab first and hesitated. Bulma raised her hand and closed the laptop screen as quietly as she could. Then she hunkered down on the bench seat again, wondering where the nearest weapon was and if she should just try sneaking up to the stairs outside while the person was in the lab, but too late! The footsteps came trotting back up the stairs and right into the house.

'Bulma?' said a familiar and anxious nasal voice. 'Are you here Bulma?'

'Oolong!' She sat up from the seat in relief and the pig squealed in fright and back pedalled up the last few steps. Rather too late she wondered what she looked like.

'Bulma, you scared me half to death! Hey, are you alright?'

'Yeah, I'm fine,' she said, sniffing and wiping the tears off her face with the back of her hand and trying on a smile. 'It's good to see you! What brings you here at this hour?'

'At what hour? It's eleven o'clock on the morning!'

'What?'

'Well, that's what you get for living on a hole in the ground I expect. Sensory deprivation.'

Bulma got up from the seat. She was stiff and she felt awful – dizzy and dried out almost like she had a hangover. And she'd just now realised she was starving.

'Would you like some breakfast Oolong? I don't have a lot to offer I'm afraid, but if you don't mind slightly mouldy nutbread toast…'

'Ah, well, that's where I can help,' he said, skipping back up the stairs. Bulma followed him, disorientated, and not sure whether Oolong's arrival was an unwelcome intrusion or a blessedly timed intervention. Blinking in the bright light she saw him untying a crate full of food from the back of his hoverbike.

'Oh wow! Thanks Oolong. But what's this for?'

'For eating I presume! Don't thank me though, I'm just the delivery boy.' He handed her the box which was full of all the usual items she wanted from the market.

'Then who…?'

Oolong was untying something else from the back of the bike – a whole venison haunch, still dripping blood. With further consideration she realised the answer was obvious.

'Just in case you were thinking of having a family of ten over for dinner here's a whole leg of deer.'

Bulma laughed, and Oolong swung the meat across his shoulders. They started back below ground.

'Did he ask you to bring this stuff?'

'Who? Your mysterious man friend? Or should I say ex-man friend?'

'I'm not sure you'd say either.'

'Bulma, I know the look of someone who's been up all night crying their heart out. It's okay, I'm not judging. But no, he didn't ask me directly. Chai was down at the market this morning and some guy was asking about me. She said she was my wife, and so he told her that you might need a friend to help you out for a while. And then he handed over these for you, and another box for us and the other side of this deer's rear end, and said that you were living in the underground lab at Capsule Corp. When she got home and told me that…it sounded so fishy I decided I should come over straight away.'

'Really?' Bravery was never one of Oolong's strong points. She put the kettle on to make tea. She wasn't up to coffee this morning.

'So was that guy your boyfriend? Is that why you've got those puffy, weepy eyes and look like crap?'

Bulma found a spark of annoyance inside of her and grasped on, struggling to return to her normal self. 'Gee thanks Oolong! You're not looking too bad yourself.' Then she decided it was probably easier if she let him think that Vegeta _was_ her boyfriend who'd broken up with her. The truth was too complicated and painful. She had the sudden thought that she could show Oolong the photos, but then put it aside. Not only would the explanation take all day, but she wasn't sure she could face it. And besides, she was just looking for company in her misery. Roshi, Puar, Yamcha and Krillin had been Oolong's best friends. Chances are that the photos would bring him more pain than solace, just as if had her.

'Yes. He was my boyfriend. We broke up the other night.'

'Well, just so you know, you don't need that guy. Chai said everyone down at the market thinks he's an arrogant asshole.'

'Ha! So you've never met him yourself?'

'No. I usually babysit this kids while Chai goes to the market. What's his name by the way? Chai told me his name was Vegeta, but I think she must be getting confused with old gossip in the market place. I mean, what are the chance of having two boyfriends called Vegeta who are assholes, right?'

'Ha. Yeah, what are the chances?'

'So…his name is…?'

'Erm,' Bulma's brain flatlined. She passed him a cup of tea to mask the pause. She was far too tired to think of names of the top of her head. 'His name…is…Geveta.'

'Ah, very easy to confuse with Vegeta,' said Oolong doubtfully. 'So what's going on Bulma? This Geveta guy seemed to want someone to stay with you for a couple of weeks. Are you sick?'

'No.' Bulma wondered what she should tell Oolong. A lie? Some version of the truth? 'Is that why you're here, to look after me for a couple of weeks?'

'Well, yeah, if you need me?'

'But what about Chai and the kids?'

'Oh, don't worry about them. Chai has her mother staying at the moment, they don't need me, believe me. I'm glad to get away to tell you the truth. And this guy said he'd keep them in market supplies till I was back.'

'Oh Oolong, this is too much.'

'Is it? Just tell me what's going on Bulma. It's serious, I can tell. Is it to do with the androids? Is it Trunks? How come he can't take care of you? Bulma?'

Bulma had frozen in the act of putting two slices of nut bread in the toaster.

'Bulma, what's wrong?'

'Oolong,' she said, keeping her eyes averted. 'I've done something very stupid. I've lost Trunks!'

She told him about the time machine she was building. She told him about the borrowed machine and the idiotic spur of the moment decision to send Trunks back in it. She didn't mention whose machine it was. But she told him the very rough plan to finish building her own machine, go back in time and bring Trunks back. She didn't explain the complexities – Oolong wouldn't understand them anyway. His immediate concern was the androids of course. Bulma told him that they weren't as much of a problem as they used to be. She told him that Trunks had beaten them and told them to change their ways or he'd destroy them. Oolong was as incredulous as Bulma had been when Vegeta had spared them.

'But they don't know that Trunks is gone yet. All I have to do is finish this machine and before you know it, everything will be as good as it was. Better than it was!'

The last fiction was that "Geveta" was her boyfriend who had helped her at first but walked out on her, right when she needed him the most.

A new routine was struck up in the underground lab. Oolong would get up when he felt like it, cook when he felt hungry, which was often, lolled around in the sun most of the rest of the time, dozing and reading, occasionally doing some house work and the rest of the time interrupting Bulma with questions and chit chat. He was a better cook than Vegeta, usually in a better mood, and lazier and more annoying as well, but it was much better than nobody. She was grateful he was there, even if she rejoiced on the days when he went home to check on his family and she could work in peace. She hadn't spent this much time with Oolong since she was in her twenties and he'd spent his days learning Master Roshi's dirty old ways, reading his soft porn magazines and oogling Bulma when he thought she wasn't looking.

Now he was a middle aged pig of responsibility. But he was still bone lazy.

Bulma moved Trunks's trundle bed into the lab, into her father's office which had more room than her own one. This meant that rising and going to bed at different times wasn't such an issue, and nor would Oolong have any chance of a free peep show should he pass by as she got changed for bed. She was surprised that this hadn't occurred to her before when Vegeta was staying in the house.

Work on the time machine began progressing fast. Bulma pushed herself hard again, afraid that she would lose Oolong's help for good every time he went home. She worked out the compression of the vibrational signatures, which turned out to be no big deal, and then had a breakthough on the detection of them – whilst between one time and another, and technically in no time or place, she could scan for it there, where every particle in the multiverse was potentially in range. Within a week she was halfway through building the detector.

'So this guy Geveta, how long were you with him for?' asked Oolong one evening while he served omelette. 'I know I haven't seen you much lately, but I would have thought I'd heard.'

Bulma shrugged, avoiding his eye. 'Not long.'

'Was it serious?'

She shrugged again. 'I guess.'

'I'm sorry,' said Oolong, taking a seat at the table. 'I shouldn't have called him an arrogant asshole the first day I was here.'

'Don't worry about it. He is.'

'I hate to see you all alone still, Bulma,' he said.

Oh brilliant, though Bulma, she was about to get a pitying speech from a smug married.

'The last guy before this one was Martin wasn't it?'

'That's right.'

'But that must be ten years ago by now.'

Bulma groaned internally. The thought of Martin was faintly embarrassing and depressing, and she had successfully avoided thinking of him for years until Oolong mentioned him just now. 'Has it really been? I had no idea.'

'Well you know that you still have a few admirers around, don't you? You don't have to be alone.'

Bulma blushed and scowled. A few? Only 'a few'? Did Oolong think she sat in her lab at night, weeping away because she couldn't find anyone to take her on?

'After Martin I decided that I wasn't that bothered trying to find and date men any more,' she replied tartly. 'Frankly, I haven't come across any up to my standard.' And flippant as this sounded it was actually true.

Martin was her last serious boyfriend, but she'd been unable to love him, even though he was gaga about her. He was a brave man, a strongly built man, for an ordinary human. But he was no Vegeta, nor even a Yamcha. Heck, he wasn't even a Yajarobe. He was handsome, clever, funny. Even though he was a hotly pursued prize amongst the women of the resistance, to Bulma he was just so _ordinary_. He thought she was brilliant, he worshipped the ground she walked on, and each time he rushed to kiss her when they met she couldn't get rid of the thought that this was _boring_. She wanted something else, something an everyday man couldn't give her. Something she couldn't get any more. And so she had given up looking.

'But Vegeta – I mean Geveta! Look, so easy to get mixed up! But Geveta was up to your standard?'

Urh, she'd forgotten about her fake boyfriend. 'I guess.'

'I don't think he was, or he'd never have walked out on you. But I'd bet anything there's still fish out there in the sea that can make you happy. Geveta can't be the only man on the planet that could turn your head.'

Bulma ate her omelette in silence while she considered this. Oolong was wrong. Of any man on the planet, "Geveta" was the only one she would consider.

'What's made you so interested in my love life all of a sudden?'

'Just vacuuming today and saw that photo of all of us at one of the World Martial Arts Tournaments. And you were all wrapped around Yamcha like white on rice, and I just thought, I haven't seen her that happy since Yamcha died. I bet she still misses him.'

'I miss everyone in that photo Oolong, even you when I haven't seen you for a long time.'

'But you know. Yamcha was your man. I just…hope the memory of him isn't what's standing in your way of finding happiness.'

Bulma burst out laughing at the absurdity of Oolong's worry. 'Yamcha strung out our engagement, went lukewarm and then _cheated_ on me. And then I had a torrid affair with Vegeta and had a kid with him. I was still with Vegeta when they all died. What makes you think it's Yamcha that I'm pining for?'

'You're pining for _Vegeta_?' Oolong looked shocked, which Bulma found both amusing and insulting.

'That's not what I said!'

'Sorry! I'm sorry. It's just that, not long before the Androids arrived, Yamcha told me and Roshi that it was probably only a matter of time before the two of you got back together. He said Vegeta was treating you badly and he was always neglecting you, and you'd come to rely upon Yamcha. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but I just took him at his word.'

Bulma blushed deeper, feeling angry now. Oolong's words were not only very close to the truth, they also perfectly described what this Vegeta was doing to her right now – treating her badly and neglecting her.

'Well, Yamcha was wrong about us getting back together anyway. Now can we drop the subject?'

In the apologetic silence that followed they heard the sounds of heavy footsteps on the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: If you're reading these chapters and its been weeks or months or years since I wrote them, I'd still love a review! I like to hear about what people specifically did or didn't like about a chapter - it all helps when writing in the future. Also, there's nothing I love more than yacking on about my stories, lol.


	17. Bedside Manner

Oolong dived under the table while Bulma dashed to her bedroom, reappearing in the bedroom door brandishing her blaster.

'Hello,' said a deep voice in a flat tone. 'I come in peace. I have heard that you could help my friend.'

 _Blasted Oolong_ , she thought. Who had he told where she was living? She didn't relax her aim on the weapon but called out. 'Who are you, and why are you here?'

The figure stepped into the light of the room. He was so tall that he couldn't stand upright in the little dome house, and his bright orange Mohawk pressed against the ceiling. Bulma pulled the trigger before he'd opened his mouth, hitting him three times and leaving nothing but slight scorch marks on his skin and green body armour. One shot rebounded and hit Oolong's dinner plate on the table, shattering it and putting a deep score in the wood. Oolong squealed in terror.

'Please desist!' the giant went on in his strange monotone. 'I am worried you may harm yourself. I am android 16.'

'I know who you are!' said Bulma, shaking. 'I warn you, I have very powerful friends, and they won't like it if _you_ harm me either!' Afraid to take her eyes off the robot she reached one handed into her pocket and pulled out the communicator. She flipped it open and heard the hail ring on the other side.

'I am not looking to harm you. I am looking for help for my friend. Now that my creator is dead, you may be the only one who can help.'

'I'm rather busy right now.'

'Please. I hate to see my friend in pain.'

Bulma heard the faint buzzing of Vegeta's voice on the other end of the communicator. She held it to her lips and whispered 'Get here now!'

'Please, follow me. I will not hurt you,' said 16. 'I do not like to harm any living thing.'

'Really?' said Bulma, trying for some sass, when actually she was terrified. 'Who do you think you're kidding? Dr Gero wasn't known for his conservationism.'

'Dr Gero created me with only one purpose – to kill Goku - but Goku is already dead. I choose my own purpose now.'

'Sorry, not convinced. Dr Gero's creations have tried to kill me and mine too many times! Do you think I've never heard a lie before?'

The robot moved his blunt features into a small smile. 'If I wanted to kill you I could just do it here. My friend is waiting above ground. I understand if you can't help.'

The giant stooped and made his way back up the passageway.

'Well, he has a point,' she said, crossing the floor to look up the stairs at him. He passed out of view, and all she could see was the circle of sky.

'Bulma! Is that another android?' hissed Oolong in a terrified stage whisper. 'You're not seriously going to follow him are you?'

'I'm not too happy about it Oolong, but I'm not sure we have a choice. We're cornered in here, and we're defenceless.'

'Well I vote that we stay down here and hide until he drags us out! Maybe he didn't see me? Maybe he'll just take you and leave me alone?'

'I'm sorry you've got caught up in this Oolong, but I think he might have heard your ear splitting squeal earlier.' She remembered the communicator in her hand. 'Get us out of here!' she said urgently into the receiver.

'Don't worry,' came Vegeta's gruff reply. 'It's all under control. Just come up, they want to talk to you.'

'Who's that?' asked Oolong, but Bulma pretended she didn't hear as she climbed the stairs. She didn't like this 'all under control' business. It didn't sound nearly as reassuring as 'I have reduced him to scrap metal.' She was glad she was wearing her blue Capsule Corp jacket – it made her feel brave.

Out in the bright sunshine she looked around and then fell back in gasping, speechless terror. _Jacket be damned_ , she thought, _I'm gonna die!_ A short distance away stood not just Android 16, but 17 and 18 as well. She fell against the broken wall next to the entrance, her legs melting out from under her. Where was Vegeta? What exactly did he have under control?

'Vegeta, where are you? They're all here to kill me!' she cried into the communicator.

'They're not. I checked. And I'm close enough to intervene if they change their minds.'

She looked this way and that, up and down. 'But where are you?'

'Look up. Now to the right. Here I am.'

Bulma could just see a tiny speck of a figure in the sky.

'You're fucking miles away! Do you _want_ me to be killed?'

'I'm close enough.' Suddenly, without Bulma registering any sense of movement or time passing, he was a lot closer, just hanging over the ruins of the house. 'Would this make you more comfortable?' Next he spoke not through the communicator, but in person, standing right in front of her. 'Or this?' Then he was gone again. 'But I think this is close enough.'

It was impossible speed, instantaneous travel, and Bulma felt reassured, but not entirely. She also felt a lot angrier. 'Am I really so repulsive that you would go to such lengths to avoid my company?'

No reply was forthcoming, so she stepped cautiously towards the group of androids. 16 looked placid, but 18 looked angry, and 17 looked pained.

She heard Oolong get to the top of the stairs behind her and scream 'Oh my Kami, we're all going to die!'

'No, Oolong! I think it's all right.'

'We won't harm a hair on your chinny chin-chin,' mocked 18. 'Bulma's boyfriend made sure of that.' Bulma was sure that 18's use of the word boyfriend was only to be insulting, but Oolong didn't.

'Geveta?' asked Oolong, mystified.

'No, Vegeta,' said 18.

'Geveta, Vegeta, they're easy names to mix up!' said Bulma ambiguously. 'Why are you three here then?'

'Because of what _he_ did,' spoke 17, nodding at the speck in the sky. His arm still hung useless at his side. His face was pale, and now that she was closer Bulma could see a sheen of sweat on his upper lip. Could the cyborgs feel pain? Because 17 looked in a bad way. 'You said to go out and rejoin the world, but how am I supposed to do that with this?' he yelled toward Vegeta.

'So, what do you want from me?' said Bulma, trembling again.

'My brother is hurt you dense hag! And your boyfriend did it, so you fix it!' snapped 18. She looked upset and stressed out, and Bulma was annoyed to find herself assigning such human emotions to a machine.

'We have looked everywhere for someone to help him,' said 16. 'No-one could-'

'You mean no-one _would!_ ' cried 18.

'But they all said that you might be able to.'

'And why would I do that?' exclaimed Bulma.

'Because we're telling you to!' said 18. 'No-one will help us! You told us to stop the destruction, to show mercy! But nobody is showing any mercy to us! My brother is in pain all the time! Where's our mercy? You at least have to give it to us! You put us in this position!' 18 looked as if she was about to start crying.

Bulma steeled herself. 'Actually if was not me who wanted you to change, or showed you mercy or asked for mercy, or any of those things. I was all in favour of destroying you that day. And whatever new leaf you've turned over, I'd still feel a lot safer if you two, or three, just exploded into metal shrapnel. I couldn't care less if your brother is in pain, in fact, I'm glad of it! I can't forget or forgive the last fifteen years so easily.'

17 made a sound of despair. 'I told you she wouldn't help!'

18 stamped her foot, tears really coming into her eyes now. 'Fix him or I'll kill you and your little bacon sandwich over there!' Before the words had finished ringing in the air Vegeta appeared by 18's side, a finger under her chin. 18's eyes went wide with fear.

'I didn't mean it, I swear! Vegeta, please!' she begged, and then broke down into sobbing. 'My brother is all I have in the world, I just want him to be happy again!'

Vegeta narrowed his eyes at her. 'Leave,' he said, his lip sneering back from his teeth, 'before I lose my temper. Maybe we'll take care of your brother or maybe we won't. But you DON'T make threats on my woman's life!'

18 didn't hesitate, just flicked herself backwards away from Vegeta and took off at full speed. It was all over so fast that Bulma didn't even have time to get more scared.

16 made an uneasy sound. 'I believe she didn't mean it.'

'Doesn't matter,' said Vegeta, and turned to 17. 'I know _you_ wouldn't be so stupid as to try anything. Bulma, fix the kid.'

'What? No! I'm not stepping any closer to him that this!'

Vegeta turned his black ice glare on her, and she glared right back at him.

'Why do _I_ have to administer _your_ mercy? Frankly I'm more interested in revenge than mercy!'

Vegeta walked right up to her then, gripping her wrist and pushing her backwards, back out of earshot, towards the stairs. 'Woman,' he said, low and urgent. 'I'm trying to show this whelp that the human race can be more evolved than he is - don't undermine me with your bloodthirst!'

'Don't talk to me about bloodthirst! It wasn't your world he and his sister tore apart, or your friends that were taken to pieces by them!'

'Just do it Bulma!' his voice dropping lower, and she knew that he didn't want the others to hear. 'I couldn't have wished for a better solution. Take him down stairs, knock him out or power him off or whatever you need to do, fix his damn arm and above all, _neuter this little punk's power outputs!_ '

Bulma immediately saw the appeal, but why stop there? 'I'll power him off permanently!' she whispered back.

'Now that's an unworthy thought. I would have thought that you of all people believed in second chances.'

'Well you thought wrong!'

Vegeta stared at her for a long second, just inches away from her face. She could feel his breath on her chin. She noticed that their knees were touching, and the hand holding her wrist was warm. In a mad second she felt the closeness between them turn from intimidation to intimacy. He still glared at her, but little hot spots bloomed on her cheeks, and she realised how upside down it was for her to be advocating murder when Vegeta wanted to hand out second chances.

'Well, I can't stop you from doing killing him,' he said. 'But Eighteen's probably not going to be very happy about that. Be it on your hands.'

Bulma nodded. 'Fine.'

'Then tell them you'll help,' he said, letting go of her.

Bulma called out to 16 and 17. 'I've had a change of heart. I'll fix your arm.' Even as that lie fell from her lips she felt a qualm.

'You're going to help an android?' said Oolong's shocked and shaky voice. She turned to where the pig cowered against the broken wall, exactly where she had earlier. His entire body was shaking, and he looked pale and ill. 'Bulma, how could you!'

Vegeta turned to face the pig with a scowl on his face. 'Not you too!' he growled.

Oolong's eyes bulged and his mouth sagged open. Bulma thought he might be having a heart attack for a second, but then he began gibbering.

'Vege, Vege, Vegeta! It can't be Vegeta! Geveta! Vegeta! But he's dead!'

'Oolong!' said Bulma rushing to him, and kneeling to grab his hand.

'Is it him?'

She hesitated. 'Yes. I lied, I'm sorry!'

Oolong took a couple of deep breaths. 'Then. If he's Vegeta. And he's dead. Oh my god. We're all dead!' and then he passed out cold.

* * *

An hour later they were convened in the lab. Despite agreeing to this plan, and still contemplating putting 17 out of action for ever, she was reluctant to let the monster into her lab. Most especially she didn't want him to know what she was building in the lab. They discussed treating him outside, but the sun was already going down and all her equipment was inside. 17 wasn't impressed at the thought of having his insides exposed in the dirt of the great outdoors either. Bulma came up with the idea of administering an anaesthetic outside and moving him inside once he was unconscious. 17 still wasn't very happy with that.

'I don't want to be unconscious! How will I know what you're doing?' he complained.

'I thought you said you were in pain,' snapped Bulma. Vegeta reached out and grabbed 17's bad arm, lifting it roughly. 17 made a great whooshing gasp and fell to his knees.

'Stop!'

'Have you forgotten that I could end you at any moment?' said Vegeta. 'What could we possibly do to you asleep that we couldn't do to you awake?'

'I need you immobile while I work on you. You're having the anaesthetic.' Bulma didn't add that her being recoiled from him with hatred, and that every word he said threatened to overwhelm her mind with rage.

'Okay,' agreed 17 sullenly.

Bulma administered a shot that had 17 slumped to the ground in under a minute. She hadn't been sure that it would work on him, being a cyborg, but the fact that it did must mean that he had an organic brain. Even though this was good, she resented having to use precious medical supplies on the monster. How many vials of anaesthetic would they go through before this was over?

As Vegeta carried the boy down into the lab, Bulma found herself briefly alone with 16.

'You wait out here,' she said to him, suddenly afraid that he would follow them down. 'One abomination in the lab at a time - house rules.'

16 solemnly closed his eyes with a slight frown. She wondered if she had managed to offend him, but if she had, why had Dr Gero made a machine with feelings to hurt?

'That is all right,' he said. 'I like the out doors. I like watching the trees and the birds and moths and all living things.'

'Huh,' said Bulma. 16's gentleness was creepy, and she didn't buy it.

She checked Oolong in the house before going down to the lab. He was still a nervous wreck, and gabbering for answers that she promised to tell him later. She suggested he make some sweetened chamomile tea and go to bed.

In the med lab she ripped the shirt off 17 and looked at his arm and shoulder. The shoulder looked dislocated and there was heavy bruising all over, and some tearing of the skin, which looked red and infected. His forearm was also bruised and bent. Vegeta helped her position 17 for an x-ray. The first image was almost useless – 17's skin and muscle was so much denser than a normal human's that he came out an almost solid white on the x-ray. The second image she increased the power. It would be a mildly dangerous dose of radiation for a human, but Bulma was willing to risk 17's health. Dr Gero had probably built him hardier than a human anyway. The shoulder joint was dislocated and there were radial breaks around the ball. The bones of the forearm were both broken, nearly crushed. To add to the mystery factor, the 'bone' didn't actually look like it was made of bone. In the chest cavity it was hard to see, but there were vaguely human looking structures inside, and well as a very dense, hard edged something. Bulma's curiosity was sparking. Now that she had him on her workbench cum operating table, she couldn't wait to open him up and see what was inside.

But that didn't mean she wasn't nervous still.

'Where do you think you're going?' she cried when Vegeta started to head out. 'You're not leaving me alone with this _thing_!'

'He's harmless!'

'I DON'T CARE! I've no idea how long a shot of this anaesthetic is going to work on him.'

With bad grace, Vegeta pulled up a chair and sat down.

She found a pulse, so after a moments pondering, hooked him up to a heart and blood pressure monitor. Bulma found that she had to saw through the skin with her scalpel. The skin on this thing was tough – human skin bonded with synthetic fibres. Under that the muscles were similar – about half flesh and blood and half synthetic, giving them a pinkish appearance. In all, it was a lot gorier than she had hoped. This was a bit too much like doing surgery, and she was not very good with flesh and blood. Her specialities were all hard sciences, not medical science. But at least there was not as much blood as inside a human.

She exposed the broken bone. This thing was some laminated material, and she wasn't sure if any of it was natural. But first things first, she would go after his power source.

She sliced in along his diaphragm, then used clamps to open his rib cage she could see in from the bottom. If she breathed through her mouth and concentrated on the machine aspects of him she could believe that she wasn't rummaging around inside a real human, because she wasn't qualified for that at all, and her stomach was feeling a little queasy. Vegeta made some sounds of disgust here and there, and then steadfastly stared out the door.

What a bizarre mish mash there is in here, she thought to herself. There was a oesophagus, and a set of lungs and a heart, but they all looked child sized. The sight of the little heart pulsing away was quite disconcerting. They were also toughened like his skin. There was also a mesh of connective tissue that she suspected carried electric charge, and she followed it back to it's root – a small box nestled next to the heart. It was smaller but similar to the infinite power supply she had powering her lab. It even had the same input and output ports. A dark thought stole over her. If she could take this power pack out of 17 she could power the time machine with it.

'Yes?' said Vegeta's voice behind her. She turned to see whom he was talking to.

'I wondered if you'd like some tea as well,' said Oolong. He still looked pale, and he carried a tray with a pot and some mugs. He gave Vegeta a distrustful look. 'Do dead men drink chamomile tea?'

'This one doesn't.'

'Bulma?' Oolong looked up at her with her bloodied surgical gloves.

'Thanks Oolong, just leave it on the sidebench,' she said, but his eyes slid over the torso spread open by clamps, and his pale face turned green. Vegeta neatly took hold of the tray as Oolong crumpled to the floor for a second time that night.

Vegeta tucked Oolong under his arm like a football and took him back to the house while Bulma continued her investigation. She brought her laptop in, and connectors, and just like the lab power it gave her a read out of all the states of the unit. Would it be possible to limit it? She hacked the software that drove the thing, and began a tentative reprogramming. Yes, it seemed like it would be possible to artificially limit the output of the supply. What about if she turned it off entirely? She tried lowering the output to 0% and suddenly the steady beep of the heartbeat doubled in pace, and the blood pressure monitor gave its little alarm to indicate that pressure was dropping. She turned to power back up and the monitors returned to their previous rhythm. So he couldn't live without the power. She'd have to kill him if she wanted it. And what seemed like such an easy proposition an hour ago didn't seem so appealing now. She made the mistake of looking at the 17's face. He didn't look as much like a teenager as he once had, but he had the face of a young man still, and it was slack and peaceful under the influence of the anaesthetic – boyish and innocent. He was flesh and blood, of a sorts, and he had put his trust in her. Once upon a time he'd been born to a mother, and then hijacked by Dr Gero.

However she had thought of the androids previously, with her hands in 17's guts she had to concede that they were more people than machines. And that meant she would be murdering him, not powering him down.

What would the harm be if she merely turned down his power until he was no longer a threat to the people of Earth? If he was still a problem he could be killed off at a later date by Trunks or whoever.

Feeling more at ease with herself now, she began experimenting to see how much power 17 needed to live. At about 1% power he showed the first signs of distress, so she made an estimate based off of nothing, that he would need about five times that for normal functioning. She wondered if 10% was too much to leave him, and settled on 7.5%. Then she started work on his arm and shoulder.

Vegeta returned and sat watching her in his chair for a while.

'This is nauseating,' he complained. He didn't, however, leave. Bulma smiled.

She found herself humming as she worked. Despite the gore, she was beginning to enjoy herself.

After cleaning up the broken pieces of laminated bone material she patched them with polymer material. It would never be as strong as the original bone, but would probably be as strong as a human's bone at least. While it was setting 17 began to stir. Bulma gave him another shot and then decided to release Vegeta from his torment. When she looked up at him her was staring at her, and he started from whatever thought he'd been having.

'He'll be out for another couple of hours at least if you want to leave,' she told him.

Vegeta grunted and got up. He looked like he wasn't sure what to do with himself. 'I'll be outside with 16 if you need me,' he said after a moment.

Bulma smiled and began smoothing down the edges of her bone mend. Really, what reason did she have to be happy? And yet she was. She had a sinking feeling that it was because of Vegeta. Because he was here. But something more than that...what was it?

'… _you DON'T make threats on my woman's life!_ '

Oh yes, that was it. His woman. Not _the_ woman, or _that_ woman, but _my_ woman. It had been a while, but her Vegeta had used to refer to her that way – jealous and possessive and disrespectful as it was, it had made her feel happy, or at least secure. He could call her his woman if he liked, and entertain delusions of possession over her, but really all he revealed with such statements was that he felt a connection to her.

Maybe this Vegeta had merely made a slip of the tongue, a moment of confusion when he forgot that this was not _his_ Bulma. Nevertheless, she'd taken that unintended statement of togetherness and put it in her heart to warm it.

'Stop it,' she told herself, but the warm continued to glow.

When she went to unhook the power source from the leads though, she found something that made her blood turn cold.

'B…B…'

She ran, rubber legged through the labs and into the house, shook Oolong awake, getting blood all over him, but when he just moaned groggily she pulled him out of bed by the shoulders and half dragged him up the stairs, emerging into the garden shadowed by the half moon. Vegeta and 16 stood not far away and she ran at them.

'Did you know?' she yelled at 16. 'Did you know there was a _bomb_ inside him?'

'Bomb?' screamed Oolong, coming fully awake. 'Where?'

'Inside 17!' said Bulma.

'I did not,' said 16. 'Although I have an explosive device inside me also. Dr Gero implanted it so that if I was overpowered or destroyed by Goku I could still prove deadly. Or so that he could destroy me if I malfunction. It doesn't surprise me that Dr Gero has done the same to 17 and 18.'

'Oh _that_ bomb,' said Vegeta, unperturbed. 'I forgot about that.'

'You _knew too?_ '

'I don't think it's that important. In my timeline you removed the bomb inside 16, and Krillin wished the bombs out of 17 and 18 - a pointless wish as far as I was concerned. The bombs weren't doing anything with Dr Gero dead.'

'Well this bomb is bloody well doing something! There's a timer ticking down and about ten minutes left on the clock!'

'How is this possible?' asked 16. He looked angry. 'Only loss of power would cause the countdown sequence to trigger. What have you done to 17?'

'Nothing! I powered him down for a few seconds, nothing more. He's fine!'

'Well 17 is doomed now, unless you can disarm the explosive!'

'Anyone know a good florist?' asked Oolong. 'I'll send flowers for his funeral.'

Vegeta sighed. 'Bulma can you disarm it?'

'Maybe, but not in ten minutes! I'm not risking my life for that…' she had to think of a new word to describe him, now that she'd accepted 17 was a person. 'That fiend!'

'Assuming it is the same device as I carry, I know how to disarm it,' said 16. 'I will show you how. Let us hurry.' He started towards the lab door, but Bulma remained.

'Sorry, still not willing to go down. Vegeta, the lab and our _project_ are in imminent danger – can you get him out of there?'

'I can take him to safety in an instant,' said Vegeta. 'That gives you nearly all the time on the countdown to disarm him. Don't worry Woman. I won't let you or the lab blow up.'

'Vegeta!'

'Come!' he commanded, jogging after 16. She followed, reluctantly, and hoping that he showed a little more speed when the time came to get 17 out of the lab.

Down below, when she looked back in 17's chest the adrenaline rush that had carried her out of the lab peaked again.

'Seven minutes, forty nine seconds!' she gabbled. 'What do I do?'

'You must first unscrew the detonator cap from the explosive,' said 16. He leaned his massive frame over to peer inside. 'It's that smaller, black metal ring.'

He continued giving out instructions, and she followed them swiftly, mind racing, hands shaking, trying not to glance too often at the timer, because each time she did her guts clenched up again in a spasm of paralysing fear. She didn't know why she wasn't taking her time, wasting it away until the moment that Vegeta would have to take 17 somewhere out to the middle of nowhere to blow up in peace. Something in her wouldn't let her. The scientist and the egotist had taken over – she would fix this in the allotted time, or her name wasn't Bulma Briefs.

As she snipped the last wire and sighed in relief, she glanced at the timer.

'Ten seconds!' She rounded on Vegeta, furious. 'Why didn't you stop me and take him away? Ten seconds! Ten seconds more and we'd all be blown to bits!'

Vegeta smiled smugly. 'I didn't need ten seconds. Besides, you looked like you were going to finish.'

She glared at him with narrowed eyes and said acidly 'You have far too much faith in both our abilities. Now where's Oolong?'

Oolong was sitting on his hoverbike about a hundred yards away in the air. When he saw Bulma come up into the garden he flew back to her.

'Bulma, I don't know how much more of this I can take. I'm a married pig with eight piglets at home.'

'I'm sorry Oolong. I had no idea all this was going to happen. But I think we're relatively safe for now. If you want to go, go, but don't feel like you need to fly off in the middle of the night.'

Oolong looked past her to Android 16 who had also joined them in he garden. 'What about the red-headed brute?' he asked.

Before she could answer, 16 interrupted. 'Thank you for saving my friend, Bulma Briefs.'

Bulma was surprised that he knew her name, although maybe she shouldn't have been. Dr Gero could have loaded 16 with all sorts of relevant knowledge for 16's assassination of Goku.

'You realise that your "friend" was jointly responsible for laying waste to our civilisation and the deaths of millions?'

'I know. But 17 and 18 have promised never to return to their old ways. I would like to help rebuild your world, as reparation for the works of my creator, Dr Gero.'

Oolong laughed nervously. 'Get a load of this guy! A contrite Android. You must have been a real disappointment to the good Doctor!'

16 nodded solemnly. 'I was. Dr Gero only activated me for a few hours before he put me back in my storage pod. He said that I had been a waste of resources, but he hoped to reprogram me at a later date.'

'Well lucky for us he didn't get round to it,' said Oolong. 'Are you for real? You don't feel like smashing or killing anything? Because that's the usual way of an android.'

'I do not like wanton destruction, and I abhor pointless violence.'

Oolong laughed again. 'Well I feel much better knowing that this guy is around. I bet a big guy like you could take on 17 or 18 if it the new leaf got turned back over for the old leaf, eh?'

'That is unclear. We have never tested our fighting capabilities on each other.'

Oolong sighed and slid off his hoverbike. 'Man, it's like one thirty in the morning. I think I'm going back to bed and decide whether to stay in the morning.'

Bulma started to follow him downstairs. Her one abomination rule seemed silly now. If 16 wanted to do violence to them while they all slept, it wouldn't matter whether she'd told him to stay outside or not. However, he had been willing to obey the silly rule before, and that was reassuring.

'You can come in if you like,' she told him. 'But I've got nowhere for you to sleep.'

'That is all right. I do not sleep. I will stay out here and enjoy the night if you have no further use for me.'

'Oh. Well, good night then.'

Downstairs Oolong settled into her bed, and Vegeta wandered back and forth between the house and the med lab. Bulma removed the disarmed bomb and began stitching 17 back up. It was a tough job given how dense and rubbery his muscles and skin were. She had to get Vegeta to put the shoulder joint back in place – a delicate task, yet one which required super human strength. When she was finally done she stood up, her back aching and her eyes dry and wondered what to do with 17. She didn't want him waking up when they were all asleep. Besides their vulnerability, he might wake up in even more pain than he'd gone under in.

She gave him one more shot of anaesthetic and a shot of morphine, then said to Vegeta, who was yawning, 'I think we're going to have to take turns watching over him. We can't leave him to wake up alone. We've no idea what state he'll be in when he does awake.'

Vegeta gave her a narrow-eyed smile. 'You seem to be showing rather more concern for the punk than earlier when you wanted to power him down permanently.'

'That's concern for _us_ , not concern for him. When I say, '"no idea what state" that includes the possibility of a murderous state.'

'Still, you fixed him instead of killed him.'

Bulma shrugged uncomfortably. 'I restricted his power to seven point five percent. If he's still the worlds biggest prick when he wakes up you could crush him with your pinkie.'

'Good. But we don't need to stand guard. We'll get 16 to do it. You're exhausted, and I hate losing sleep.'

'Why? Does it put you in a bad mood?' she said, heavy on the sarcasm.

Vegeta looked her directly in the eye, brows lowered and eyes glinting icily and no humour in his expression at all. Bulma felt a start of fear. She'd forgotten in the face of the androids that Vegeta not tamed either. The fear ran across her skin like static electricity, prickling and thrilling.

'That's right,' he said, and then turned away laughing.

 _Damn_ , she thought. _He got me good that time._

They brought 16 down and Bulma gave him instructions to wake her if 17 stirred.

'Where's the small bed gone out of the house?' asked Vegeta.

'I put it in my father's office.'

'Well, call me when he's awake. I guess he might be a bit pissed off when he discovers his power's been limited.'

'Call you? Where are you going?'

'Well, there's no bed for me here.'

'Yes there is. Where have you been sleeping these last ten days? On the bare earth? In a cave? Under a tree?'

He didn't answer, just folded his arms and frowned.

'Please don't go. Surely it would be much better if you were here on hand? You can have the trundle bed, I'll sleep on the couch in my office.'

He sighed again, then yawned. 'No Woman, don't be silly. I'll take the couch.'

She fetched some sheets and the only spare pillow from the impoverished linen cupboard in the house and led him into her office. The solar lights came on giving it that middle of the day look. She almost hadn't been in since the first day they had opened the lab up. Vegeta had vacuumed it, and that was all that had really changed since. She remembered that last day with Trunks when they'd broken in. How handsome he'd looked in his Capsule Corp jacket before she'd foolishly sent him off to failure. She was wearing her own blue Capsule Corp jacket today. This room had another layer of memory now – two last days seared on her memory, two last conversations before unexpected defeat.

She flung the sheets over the couch, then picked up the pillow and blanket and put them on top. She spied the rubbish pail with its fifteen-year-old load of dirty Kleenex.

When she turned Vegeta was taking off his black leather vest and gloves. She put her hand into the jacket pocket and felt the cool ball of fabric that still lived in there. Vegeta sat on the couch, knees apart, while she stood by the desk, exactly as they had been the moment when she'd realised she couldn't keep him from leaving her again.

'Do you remember our last day here?' she said.

Vegeta looked up at her swiftly, eyes keen but concerned.

'"Our last day"? No.'

Bulma blushed, realising her mistake. 'Of course not. I forgot…forgot it wasn't you.' Her Vegeta was dead. And all the times when she'd gone through her memories of him, wondering if they would have made it as a couple, she'd told herself that it would never have happened, and that last encounter in this very office, on that very couch had been the final and most condemning argument against. And now she thought she must have been wrong. Here was another Vegeta, a testament to his devotion to another her, another family. She squeezed the ball of fabric tight in her hand, and then pulled it out of her pocket. The fingers popped stiffly from white gloves she held in her fist. She stared at them, but saw his face behind them, his expression surprised.

She felt like she'd brought them together then; this Vegeta and the ghost of hers, co-existing in this room. She smelled the gloves, but there was no scent left any more. She threw them to Vegeta. He caught them and examined them curiously.

'Gloves for you, if you want them,' said Bulma, her throat suddenly closing with tears trying to get out. 'He left them on the floor that last afternoon. He was really pissed off about it.'

Vegeta looked up at her, with a frown of concern. He pulled on the gloves and held out his hands, taking in the effect.

His white-gloved hands were so familiar to Bulma. This was some detail she hadn't realised she missed until she saw it and was overwhelmed with longing. Suddenly he was the Prince again. The Prince of all Saiyens; her Prince. Bulma's eyes filled with tears that she blinked away, swallowed down on hard.

'I haven't worn these for years,' said Vegeta softly. Gently he took them off again and offered them to her. 'I can't take them. They're yours not mine.'

Bulma took them and avoided his eye.

'See you in the morning then,' she said hoarsely, flicking off the light as she left.

* * *

Vegeta lay awake in the dark for a while, despite his exhaustion. This thing with the gloves was troubling. How swiftly that moment came on – one minute she'd been business as usual, and the next, something profound was stirring her, something to do with him, or that other him. He wondered what had happened that day between her and her Vegeta. It was the first time he had felt confronted by his other self's past in this timeline, in more than just the academic knowing that the other Vegeta had died. The other Vegeta had also lived, had shared his life, had been _him_ until a certain point, and then departed and followed a different script. He had no idea what the other one may have done or said to her, although they were essentially the same person. It was disturbing, like having amnesia about a couple of years of his life.

He felt a little angry and a little sorry for the other Vegeta, who had died before he'd managed to turn his life around. He could imagine exactly the shattered pride and bitter defeat that he must've tasted before death. He was probably rotting miserably in Hell, but there was not a lot to death. He'd died twice before himself. The damage was on the side of the living, and he could see now that Bulma was still damaged by it after all these years. She missed the other him, even though their time together hadn't been that long, and he had a feeling that despite his best efforts, she was going to miss him too when he left.

Just as troubling was how much he cared. Why was he staying here tonight when he didn't need to be, just because she'd asked? His bed at Korin's Tower where he'd been staying was more comfortable that this narrow sofa. Damn it, he _couldn't_ keep hanging around her!


	18. Time Patrol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I will try posting a chapter a day while I write the end of the story. I've got a buffer of about 6 chapters, so hopefully I don't run out before I finish it. We'll see. don't forget to follow or review, you know I love it!

'Bulma Briefs, the android 17 has awoken.'

Bulma blinked and rubbed her eyes in the dark. She turned on the desk lamp that she used as a bed side lamp and sat up groggily.

'What the hell time is it?' she said. She felt like she hadn't slept at all, like today was hitting her much too early. She'd had a cry when she'd got to bed – a snuffling weep that she'd done her best to keep silent and secret from the Saiyan next door – but she'd still fallen asleep pretty fast. When she'd turned the light out the clock had said 3am.

'It is seven thirty five in the morning,' answered 16 in his flat voice.

'Urgh!'

'Can I be of assistance?'

'Can you get me a weekend away from my life on a tropical island paradise?'

16 frowned. 'How can one take a holiday from their life? It would follow you there.'

'It sure would,' sighed Bulma, standing and putting on some outerwear. She could get used to having 16 around. It was like having a humourless foreign butler.

Vegeta was already up, and as she walked into the med lab 17 was complaining loudly at him.

'Why do I feel so bad? What've you done to me?'

'Surgery,' said Bulma, squaring up to the kid's pale blue eyes. 'Mending and shaping broken bones, resetting your shoulder, cutting and stitching muscle back together to do so.'

'Then why does my chest hurt so much?' He felt around gingerly with his good arm, his face showing puzzlement and then alarm. He pulled up his shirt, showing the massive stitched scar that curved along the base of his rib cage. He turned a greenish shade and fell back onto his elbows.

'I've been cut open!'

'There was a bomb inside you,' said Bulma. 'We had to deactivate it.' She hoped that 16 wouldn't mention that she already had him open at that point.

'Is this true?' 17 asked of 16.

'It is. Dr Gero placed it there. Ms Briefs inadvertently triggered it. I helped her disarm it.'

Bulma held up the kidney tray holding the device. 17 made another sound of distress and lay back on he table.

'Are you going to be sick?' asked Bulma, looking for a free receptacle.

'Hardly,' said 17. 'I haven't eaten anything for about ten years.'

'You have a digestive system don't you? I happened to see it.'

'It's optional. I used to eat for the fun of it, but there's been nothing worth trying for so long.'

'And whose fault is that?'

17 didn't answer, just moaned.

'Look, you need time to heal. I'm going to give you another shot of morphine for the pain. All you have to do is sleep, heal, and then get the hell out of my lab.'

As she primed a syringe with morphine Vegeta chuckled.

'What an excellent bedside manner you have Dr Briefs.'

Two hours later she was showered, fed, and feeling a hundred percent better. Vegeta was prowling around in the grounds of Capsule Corp, which heartened her somewhat. 16 was keeping a bedside vigil with 17, and effectively guarding him. Oolong was on his way home to his wife and children, after telling her to call him once all the androids were gone. He had a hard time believing the explanation that Vegeta was from an alternative future timeline – as far as Oolong was concerned, time was a one-way passage with no turns, branches or doors. He regarded Vegeta with almost as much suspicion as the androids.

Bulma sat down at last to continue to work on her time machine.

Several hours later Vegeta entered, and she looked up expecting him to be bringing lunch with him. Instead he pushed a scared looking 18 in front of him who had her eyes clamped shut.

'What!'

'She's here to see her brother,' said Vegeta.

'Why would you bring her down here without asking me first?'

'What's the harm in it? You'd have brought her down if you'd seen the scene she was making outside.'

'When I've got my eyes closed I'm only blind, not deaf,' said 18 tartly.

Once they were in the med lab he told her he could open her eyes. 17 was out for the count, sleeping off the morphine. 18 rushed to his side, tears in her eyes.

'What have you done? Why is he not conscious?' She grasped his hand and shook his shoulder.

'Careful with him,' warned Vegeta.

He told her what Bulma had done to fix the arm and shoulder and about the bomb they had to remove from his chest cavity. 16 provided corroborating evidence.

'We believe that you have one of these bombs inside you also.'

18 clutched her chest. 'Is it dangerous?'

'Only if you die.'

18 looked slightly reassured, but not much. 'Will he be well soon?'

'Soon, but I have no idea how long though,' answered Bulma. 'I don't know how fast you cyborgs heal, or how much damage was actually done. I do know though that those bones will never be as strong as they once were. Stronger than a human's but that laminate can't be made as good as new, unless it's replaced outright. The muscles also…I'm not sure if they will fully heal to the level they once were. He may have to be careful with that shoulder for the rest of his life.'

She looked at Vegeta, not sure she should mention the last thing. He was watching her, and he spoke up, diverting 18's attention to himself.

'There's one more thing. We've reduced his power.'

'What? What do you mean?'

'We've limited his power output significantly. From now on he'll never be as strong as he was.'

16 was frowning, but he said nothing. Bulma realised that he already suspected something of that type had happened.

'Why would you DO THAT?' 18 leapt to her feet from the chair, but Vegeta laid a hand on each of her shoulders and pushed her down again – pushed so hard that the metal chair legs splayed outwards and 18 ended up kneeling of the floor.

'Control yourself! You know exactly why we did so.'

'You've crippled him!'

'Unlikely. By my estimation he'll still be stronger than the strongest human by several times. His ability will be about the same as Krillin's, if you remember him. He may not even notice his disability for a while.'

'Was Krillin the tall bald one with the freaky third eye, or the ridiculous short bald one with the dots on his head?'

Vegeta growled, a low menacing sound of disgust and anger. 'Would you like us to limit you too? We could take that bomb out and turn you down to little old lady levels if you like?'

18 looked back with eyes full of defeat and anger. She breathed through clenched teeth until she managed to master herself to say 'No thank you. Sorry if I insulted your friends.' Then she began to weep, and Bulma believed they were tears of pure fury. She turned to Bulma but wouldn't look her in the eye as she said woodenly 'Thank you so much for fixing my brother. You have our eternal gratitude.'

Bulma stared back at her, wishing this moment over. 18 had obviously been instructed to thank her by Vegeta. 'No problem,' she said, indicating with her tone that it was absolutely was a problem. 'Krillin was the short one,' she told 18, feeling that the android should know, that she should be made to feel a piece of the pain Bulma felt when 18 had mocked him. 'He was a great guy, a funny and brave man, and you thought so too in Vegeta's timeline. In that universe you fell in love with and married him. That's whose daughter is with you in that photo Vegeta showed you.'

18 finally looked at her, her pale eyes wet and her mouth open in surprise. This news distressed her. Bulma wondered how long 18 had spent thinking over her daughter in her picture, and the possibility that she would marry. She saw regret on the androids face. However, when she looked up she saw anger on Vegeta's. He was glaring pointedly at her. He mustn't have wanted to reveal that to 18, but Bulma didn't care. She'd got exactly the reaction from the girl that she'd wanted.

'I didn't know,' 18 said. 'Is that true?'

'It's true,' confirmed Vegeta.

'I'm sorry,' finished 18 weakly. It was the first sincere apology she had made.

'Once 17 stops complaining of pain every time he wakes I'm going to let you have him, but in the meantime I can't abide you in my lab,' Bulma said. 'You can wait outside if you like, but I don't want to see you.'

18 let herself be led away by Vegeta with her eyes closed again. Bulma found that she was shaking with rage.

'I thought you had done something like that. Why else would you have opened him up and powered him off?' said 16.

'You have a problem with that?'

'Yes. But maybe it was wise. Vegeta seems to know a lot about the future.'

'Yeah, Vegeta knows all and tells nearly nothing! I don't know if it's wise or not!' exclaimed Bulma. 'I don't know why he didn't just kill 17 and 18 on sight! That's what I would have done!'

'Would you have killed me also?'

Bulma eyed the hulking peace-loving robot and wondered how much trouble speaking the truth would get her into. 'Better safe that sorry. But you seem all right, I'm glad we didn't.'

'I'm glad you didn't also. Maybe you will change your mind about 17 and 18 as well.'

'And maybe birds will fly out of my ass.'

'That is not physiologically possible.'

Bulma laughed at the android with no sense of humour. 'That's right 16, it's not.'

* * *

Now that Vegeta was back, life followed the previous regime under him, with the exception that Vegeta never ate with her, merely served her food and left, so that in total she probably saw him for less than five minutes each day, and sometimes not at all. Also her days were interrupted by treating 17. After three days he was able to get up off the table by himself, and Bulma felt that was enough doctoring. He could heal the rest of the way somewhere else where she didn't have to put up with him. 17 was led out of the lab and delivered into his sister's arms, a sister who now treated him with the delicacy of fine china.

16 surprised everyone and offered to return if they needed anything. Bulma was even more shocked when 18 timidly offered the same. They said that they were going to try building a house overlooking the West River. It wasn't an entirely deserted area. Bulma knew of a couple of families that farmed the land there.

'A word of advice,' she cautioned them. 'If you want people not to run screaming from you, it's probably best not to fly right up to them. Normal people walk,'

As they watched them depart Bulma had a feeling of bewilderment. Had she really just given advice to android killers on how to make friends? The impossible had been made possible with Vegeta around.

'Who did you make this promise to, to give the androids a second chance?' she asked him.

'Eighteen,' he said. 'And myself. I wanted to leave this timeline in better shape than I found it. And to do that Eighteen has to live, and not be a menace. And Sixteen is a great bonus to have alive and well. But Seventeen can't be too powerful. I promised _her_ that I would try and save him also. Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't. But it's never worked out this well before.'

'Can you speak plainer and in less riddles?'

He shook his head. 'I draw the line at letting you know what happened in my past. I can't tell you what awaits you in your future. Besides, I could be wrong.'

Over the next few days Bulma's stray thoughts kept returning to this speech. What was coming for the Androids? Why must Seventeen be weaker? But most especially _sometimes he does save them, sometimes he doesn't_. How many timelines had he visited just like this one? How many Bulma's had he played house with in an effort to get home?

Oolong decided not to come back. Vegeta was grumpy about it, but Bulma didn't mind. She knew Vegeta wanted to abandon her again, but at the same time she knew he didn't. She was his Woman in his mind - deep down, he didn't know the difference between one Bulma and his own. And she could understand that, because the edges of the two Vegeta's she'd known were so blurred in her mind also.

One afternoon as she was soldering circuitry, her tangled ponytail slipped forward and caught fire in the blow torch. She screeched and batted at it, then grabbed her lab coat and smothered the fire out. She was left with the stink of burnt hair, a massive chunk of missing hair and a slightly burnt ear.

'Right that does it,' she said to herself. 'I'm taking you to get a hair cut, right now!'

She'd started talking to herself more and more lately, just to hear a voice. Vegeta had been acting like a ghost. Sometimes she heard him in the house, but when she got to the house he was gone. Sometimes there was evidence that he was just there recently, like fresh muddy footprints in the lab, but she never saw him or heard him come and go. One morning she had to fight a rising sense of madness after the thought occurred to her that maybe she was making her own meals, then blanking out and coming to, thinking the meals had been prepared by the magical Vegeta who didn't really exist at all.

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror she got the hair scissors and roughly cut the tangled mass from the back of her neck. The heavy, singed thing fell to the floor like a small dead animal. Then she combed out what was left and cut as tidily as she could, a chin length blunt cut. It took her ages, especially the back, which she did by feel, but when she was done she swung her head side to side, feeling free of the weight and admiring her handiwork in the mirror.

'Not bad, not bad at all!'

But when she went to put the new bob in a hair tie she discovered a problem. The hair at the front was too short to reach the ponytail, and it swung in front of her face when she leant forward. 'Kami's balls! I don't even have any hair clips to hold it back!'

Then she had another idea. She'd had this problem before, and bangs were the answer. She made the appropriate partings and cut herself a fringe, low over her eyebrows, and when she was done she was pleasantly surprised by the result. Not only did she have something that could be termed a hairstyle for the first time in years, but with the bangs covering the creases in her forehead she looked younger, much younger.

'Why Ms Briefs!' she told her reflection. 'You say you are forty-nine years old? Why, you don't look a day over thirty-five!'

Then she went back to work and forgot about it.

When her rumbling stomach told her that dinner might be ready and waiting for her in the house she got up from her workbench and was immensely surprised to see Vegeta propped in the doorway. He looked fairly nonplussed himself, and she had the feeling that he hadn't meant to be spotted.

'You're here!' she cried. 'Maybe you're not a figment of my imagination after all. Or perhaps I've started hallucinating as well.'

'You cut your hair.'

Her hands went to her hair. 'Oh, this? Yes, I gave myself a spruce up.'

'Why?'

This annoyed her. 'Why not? If you must know I set fire to my ponytail!'

Vegeta laughed. 'You should be more careful.'

'Why'd you cut your hair?' she asked. The flat cut had always puzzled her. 'I didn't think Saiyan hair grew back.'

'It doesn't,' he said, rubbing his hand across the top of his hair self-consciously. 'I did it to fit in with humans better.'

Bulma gave a hoot of laughter. 'Fit in with humans! I couldn't imagine a priority lower on your list.'

'Well they do tend to stare when you go to the mall with twelve inches of hair standing straight up off your head.'

'The mall?'

Vegeta looked pissed off. 'Besides, it wasn't even my idea, it was Bra's.'

'Oh. Did it work then? Did people stop staring?'

'Not really.'

Bulma wasn't surprised. Everything about Vegeta, from his expressions to his swagger to the way he dressed screamed sex and danger. But mostly danger.

He turned to go.

'Wait! Have you had dinner? Can you have it with me? It's just, I haven't had anyone to talk to besides myself for days.'

He sighed. She took this to mean that she was a needy, weak woman, but she didn't care what he thought if he would sit through dinner and say a few words.

'All right Woman.'

Back in the house her dinner was laid out. She hadn't really been paying attention, but she suddenly realised that the standard of Vegeta's catering had improved remarkably since he'd taken over from Oolong. There was rice, vegetable dumplings and marinated strips of meat in a dark sauce. Goat perhaps?

'Where's yours?' she asked.

'Just a minute.' He went out of the house and up the steps. A moment later he was back, carrying a hearty Saiyan-sized portion of the same.

'Have you just been eating in the garden while I've been in the house?'

'Sometimes.'

'And when I'm in the garden?'

'I'm a bit further away.'

'You don't have to avoid me you know.'

Vegeta shrugged, digging in. 'Maybe I do,' he said, with his mouth full of dumpling.

Bulma dove in too.

'Um! This is great! I've meant to tell you, your cooking lately has been amazing! And you've been so clean and quiet in the kitchen I haven't even noticed you cooking.'

Vegeta chuckled. 'Thank Korin for that. I've outsourced.'

'Korin brings food?' said Bulma, stunned.

'No, I bring it. But he makes it.'

'Then how is it still hot?'

'I told you I was fast.'

'You weren't kidding.'

Bulma continued to eat, but the food suddenly didn't taste quite as amazing. She had liked the idea of Vegeta slaving away in the kitchen for her culinary delight. When she finally looked up from her disappointment she found he had stopped with his rice bowl halfway to his face and was watching her. He dropped his gaze and carried on eating, but she wouldn't let the moment slide away unnoticed.

'What is it?' she asked.

Vegeta shrugged again. 'Nothing. Just that…you hair is very similar to when I met you on Namek.'

Bulma felt a surge of joy when he said that. Although this Vegeta was greatly a stranger to her, they did share some past together – they had lived the same lives until some point after the return from Namek. She had almost forgotten.

'You remember Namek?'

'Of course.'

She smiled and decided she would test the fidelity of these shared memories.

'Do you remember the first time you saw me?'

'Yes.'

'What was the first thing you said to me?' she asked eagerly.

Vegeta looked annoyed, but he did answer her eventually, keeping his eyes on his food. 'I called you a silly girl because you were making love-struck overtures to that monster Zarbon.'

Bulma laughed. 'That's right! And I nearly lost my stomach when he transformed into that beast. Luckily, I ended up with the other monster in that fight.'

'Is that what you thought of me then? A monster?'

'Of course! You were so amazingly strong and ruthless. I was nearly passing out with fear when you punched that hole through him. I thought Krillin and I would be next. But when you let us go. I started to wonder if maybe you weren't totally evil after all. You could have killed us easily, but you didn't. I always wondered why? If it was...me?'

'I thought it was pointless to Krillin. He'd ceased to be a threat to me any more, or so I thought. I guess I slightly owed him because he spared my life when Kakarott told him to. You were too good-looking and silly to kill.'

'Is that what you thought? That I was good looking?' Bulma tried to stifle her grin, to hide how much this old piece of news delighted her.

'Did I never tell you that?'

'Gohan once told me that you said you'd just stolen the dragonball off the baldie and the gorgeous woman he was with. But no, you never mentioned it to me.'

'I remember saying that. Then I kneed Gohan in the guts for being a hold out, but I decided not to kill him either because I was in such a good mood, and there weren't many Saiyans left in the universe. Oh, and he was just a kid.'

Her smile disappeared somewhat. 'Yes, that's right, you were a total bastard.'

He chuckled. 'You're welcome. Can you remember your first words to me?'

Bulma blushed and cleared her throat. 'Hmm, it was something like, "Hey, homeboy, you need place to live! Why don' t you come live at my place?" And then you called me an idiot.'

Vegeta laughed. 'Well, I was right. Deny that this was an idiotic thing to say.'

'Mmm. Not sure I can.'

'Inviting an unknown alien warrior to live at your house was a stupid move. And so was calling him a homeboy. I nearly blasted your head off your shoulders right then, but I actually _did_ need a place to live. You left out the "You're pretty cute" part though.'

Bulma's mortification deepened. 'Oh yes, forgot that. It worked out all right though, you living at Capsule Corp? Well, for you it did, anyway.'

'Yes, it did,' he said. 'For me.'

'Did you go into space to train for a year when you heard the Goku was still alive?'

'Yes.'

'And you came back on the same day Frieza returned?'

'Yes, and you put me in a pink shirt that said BAD MAN on the back. For me, that was also the day that Trunks warned us that the androids were coming in three years time.'

'So what did you do then?'

'Trained solidly for three years of course! Reached the level of Super Saiyan a couple of months before the androids surfaced.'

'Well that's actually no different to what you did in my timeline, except that there was no warning about androids, just your psychotic thirst for more power and perfection.'

'Huh,' grunted Vegeta. 'Really? Figures.'

'Did you take off into space again a few days after I told you I was pregnant?'

'Yes.'

'And you didn't come back until Trunks was six months old?'

'Seven months. He was already crawling. It was the day the androids appeared.'

'Right. And you planned to leave again soon after.'

'I planned to fight the battles before me, and nothing else. But when I was done, I stayed.'

Bulma shrugged keeping her eyes on her plate. 'Pity you didn't survive the battle here, but I'm not sure you'd have stuck around if you had.'

'I was going to leave again?'

'Yes, you were about head off again, with no time frame or goal in mind, just getting away from me and Trunks and all those unpleasant _feelings_.'

Vegeta grunted. 'Can't say I know what I was thinking or whether I would have come back.'

'Well, as I recall, you said it was a pity that you couldn't bring yourself to destroy me, our son and the whole planet for being the distractions they were.'

She glanced up at him. He'd stopped eating and was just staring into his rice bowl again.

'Is that what happened? On that last day in your office? With the gloves? I told you I was leaving and I said that to you?'

'Accurate deduction. Yes.'

'Well, I'm sorry for that.'

'I didn't really buy it at the time. I could tell you were in two minds whether to leave, so I fucked your brains out in an effort to change your mind…but it wasn't enough to make you stay. I just ended up humiliating myself more for you.'

The silence that followed this went on and on. Bulma sensed she had crossed some sort of line, and she was too ashamed to look at Vegeta. He was breathing fast, and it was so quiet in the house she thought he would be able to hear the sound of her heart beating way too hard and loud in her chest. _Why did I say that?_ she berated herself silently.

She forced herself to eat her meat, choking it down, barely tasting it. After a few seconds Vegeta began eating also, and as soon as he was done he stood and picked up his dishes. 'I'll get your dishes in the morning,' he said, already turning away without meeting her eyes. 'You won't see me around much, but I'll make sure you get fed.'

'But wait, I need you tomorrow!'

'Why?'

'I've finished all the major technical components for the time machine. Now I need to start putting it together. I need to scavenge.'

He finally looked at her, annoyance writ large across his face, and Bulma had the distinct impression that he didn't really believe her.

'Call me if you need me,' he said and stalked out.

* * *

The next morning she went to the house and found her breakfast as usual. She checked the bedroom, but of course he wasn't there. She wondered if he even still slept here, or if he was sleeping at Korin's Tower or Baba's cave or freaking Santa's Grotto for all she knew. She made the bed with fresh sheets, and pulled them tight. If he slept in the bed tonight she'd know.

In the lab she lined up her time drive, the particle vibrational detector, the homing beacon entagled particle system (better safe than sorry when she wasn't sure how well the particle vibrational detector was going to work), the circuits for the onboard computer and the laptop with all the software she would need to load onto the computer once it was installed. Here were the bare bones of the time machine. Now she just needed to bring them together.

She'd let the infinite power drive from Seventeen slip away from her, but she'd decided that until the time machine was ready she'd run it off the infinite power drive in the lab, and then when it was ready, she'd take the drive from the lab and install it into the time machine. Her lab would be without power, but at that point it hardly mattered. What mattered was getting Trunks home.

She hailed Vegeta on the communicator.

'I need you to help me scavenge stuff.'

'You mean you need me to help fly you around.'

'Well, yeah.'

'Come up to the garden.'

She did so. 'Where are you?' she asked.

'Keep going, back towards the tennis courts. See the hoverjets?'

'Yes.'

'Now stop.'

She did, with rising annoyance. He wasn't here, and if he expected her to slow-mo it around in a hoverjet with no windscreen…

Her prized hoverjet had a new windscreen.

'Oh.'

'Call me when you actually need me,' he growled, and hung up.

Two days later, after some fruitful and a lot of slow scavenging she was at the site of a broken rail carriage workshop in what used to be Bouldertown. It was bloody hard work lifting collapsed roofing and ceiling tiles by herself – it would be a hundred times easier if Vegeta was there to do the heavy lifting and order around. She itched to call him, but each time her hand went to the communicator his admonishment rang in her ears – _Call me when you actually need me_. What a bastard! It wasn't like he had anything better to do!

At least she'd got her own bed back. He hadn't made a wrinkle in the bed clothes the night after she'd made the bed, and so, cursing him soundly for letting her sleep on the trundle bed for no reason, she'd taken possession of her queen sized bed again. There was nothing like being able to stretch out to sleep.

Grunting, she tugged a large sheet of steel free from under a strut. On the last tug it came free suddenly, and she staggered backwards, tripping on a metal bar and sprawling on her ass with the metal sheet on top of her. She stood up angrily, brushing herself off, swearing 'Kami-damn you to Hell Vegeta!'

'Indeed,' said a gruff voice from behind her. She turned, expecting Vegeta, but it wasn't him at all. It took her a second, because he was so changed, but when she recognised him she leapt over the crumpled roof like a gazelle and launched herself at him.

'Trunks!'

She had almost closed the distance when she slowed herself, then stopped. Something was wrong. He wasn't racing to her, and he was older, a lot older.

'Trunks?'

Had she lost her sweet young man? Had he been trapped in a maze of timelines and fighting to get back for years and years like Vegeta? It must be about twenty years, because this Trunks was a rugged man in his prime. Had he only just made it back? Her heart clenched, looking up into his face. 'Oh my poor Trunks, what happened?' She reached up to touch his face, but he caught her hand. There was only sympathy in his face.

'Young Mom. Bulma. I'm not your Trunks.'

Bulma froze in place, not wanting it to be true, but sensing that it was, and that the rug of her reality had just been pulled out from underneath her again, and she was falling…

He was so handsome, devastatingly handsome, his skin tanned darker than her own Trunks's, with stubble and a scar on one cheek which only added to his dashing appearance. He wore a bandanna tied loosely around his neck, and a long trench coat that flapped dramatically in the breeze. His deep blue eyes were still serious, and there was something more of Vegeta in the face and manner of this older Trunks. Her mind and heart skittered around, trying to recover from this disappointment.

'Why are you here then? From _where_ and _when_ are you here, for that matter?' She looked around and spied the time machine – a beautiful slick purple one – parked in the sky only fifty yards away. 'Who built your machine?'

'You did of course. Or rather, my mother Bulma. I'm from the future, it hardly matters when, and I've come from the Planet of the Kais.'

'The what?'

'It doesn't matter. I don't supposed if I asked you to destroy the time machine you're building, and promise to never build another, that you would do it?'

'Do you know why I'm building a time machine?'

'Yes.'

'Then you know the answer is no.'

He was being very gentle, but Bulma began to tremble. Now her own son was here to prevent her completing her mission?

He sighed. 'I've been trying to find your Trunks ever since I came across this timeline and figured out what happened, to return him to you, but I haven't been able to locate his timeline. I'm afraid he's lost in time. And if we let you make another leap it will just unravel more timelines.'

'What do you mean you found this timeline? What are you doing here?'

'I've been on the trail of this Vegeta for years. He's a fugitive you know, one of the worst offenders we're ever detected. I'm a time patroller. I work for the Supreme Kaioshin to bring unity to the universe once more.'

Bulma's heart was beating fast. 'What the hell does that mean?'

'Each time branching creates another universe, but there is only one set of Supreme Kai, only one Planet of the Kais, only one set of guardians of the universe. They can't guide this massive set of universes any more, and the consequences are catastrophic in the universes that slip through the cracks. Surely you can feel it here? That this reality is neglected? Forgotten about? Uncared for? I close off the possibility of more time travel and collapse the universes back to a single outcome.'

As calmly delivered as this line was, Bulma had the feeling that what he described meant something awful for her branch of reality.

'Please Bulma. Say you'll destroy the machine! I've run out of time on this one, and things are about to be taken out of my hands.'

He was still holding her hand. Bulma pulled it out of his grasp, feeling despair well up in her. Was the multiverse so against her? Sent her son to stop her getting her son back? She felt too hollow to even cry.

'Uh oh,' said Trunks. In the next instant Trunks had vanished to a point about ten yards away, and Vegeta stood exactly where he had been, glowing golden and crackling energy, facing away from her towards Trunks. Trunks powered up to Super Saiyen too, as if it was nothing - easier than Gohan or her Trunks had ever managed it.

'I don't want to fight you again Vegeta.'

'Why, are you scared of taking a beating from your old man?' roared Vegeta.

'Your time here is up, and I can't cover for you any more. He knows you're here and I can't stop him coming this time. Just keep her safe, okay?'

'Damn it!' yelled Vegeta, turning and grabbing hold of Bulma in a bear hug. The world vanished and was replaced by the inside of her lab. He let go of her and she spun on the spot, clutching her head and wondering if she'd lost her mind.

'What? What? How?'

'Good, he hasn't followed us. Does your time machine look all present and correct?'

She staggered over to the hangar where she had now taken all the machine parts now she was constructing it. 'Yes. It looks undisturbed. But how did we get here?'

'Instant transmission.'

'Goku's technique?'

'It's amazing what you can learn when you share a person's head long enough.'

Bulma felt overwhelmed by the number of things coming at her that required further explanation, but she decided to stick to the things that seemed likely to be most pressing. Vegeta paced the lab, highly agitated and still in Super Saiyan form.

'Vegeta, who is coming for us?'

'The Eastern Supreme Kai.'

'Is that a guardian of the universe?'

'Yes, he is one of the four ultimate authorities on the state of the universe. Or universes, as the case may be.'

'The guardian of the universe wants to stop us?' Bulma put her hands to her face feeling the first bubbles of hysteria taking her. 'No! No!'

Vegeta stopped his pacing and stood before her, taking her wrists in his glowing golden hands and pulling them down so he could look straight into her eyes. His eyes were that strange aqua, and they looked more open, more sincere and earnest than she'd ever seen them.

'Bulma, it's not over yet. He won't risk fighting me again – he's not as strong as I am. He has no hope against me in a straight fight. It's you he'll be targeting. You can destroy the time machine if you want–' she shook her head emphatically no, '-though I'm not sure even that will appease him. But we can do this. I'm not going anywhere now; I won't leave you alone again. If you're still with me on this I'll do everything I can to keep you safe.'

The warmth of his golden light spilled over her skin, washing her in waves that soothed her panic, hypnotised her. A being of immense power held her in his hands, and she felt safe, tiny and grateful. The turquoise eyes were full of concern for her. He was a golden angel of mercy, sent to protect her…

'I trust you,' she whispered. 'You'll keep me safe.'

He frowned, letting go of his power so it slipped away with a rush of wind. The light and the warmth left him. Now he was just Vegeta, a grizzled outlaw, holding her wrists too tightly and fixing her with his hard black stare.

'I'm still just me,' he said, as if he had read her mind.

Bulma frowned too, coming back to earth from the state of hysteria.

'I'm not infallible, and he's clever,' he went on.

'I understand,' said Bulma. 'I get it. I might be killed. But I'm not giving up on getting my Trunks home.'

'Good,' said Vegeta, dropping her wrists. 'Because I'm not giving up on getting back home either. There's just one thing though.'

'What?'

'You know how I said that the one thing we had plenty of was time? That is decidedly not true any more.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: So you silent readers out there, is this going in the direction you thought it would? Leave a review to let me know!


	19. The New Roommate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors note: Thanks again for your reviews! If you're shy about reviewing don't be, because basically I see a review and go 'SQUEE! I LOVE YOU READER!' I can't figure out how to reply to people who ask questions in reviews, but aren't logged in, or have PMs disabled. Someone with the screen-name jhptygate asked me if I'd read DBM, and the answer is I don't think so. What's that? Is that an acronym for something? Tell me more. And I like time travel stories too. Also, I don't know if I can stick to my one chapter posting a day schedule because I JUST WANT TO POST THEM ALL RIGHT NOW! But then you'd all have to wait ages for the next update.

Vegeta was back, and in a big way.

After Trunks's warning he'd taken them both to Korin's tower to get their dinner by instant transmission.

'Bulma!' said Korin when he saw them. 'Vegeta's been telling me about what you've been working on. It would be unbelievable if the evidence hadn't come to stay with me for the last month. You must tell me more about the time machine! Are you staying for dinner this time?'

'I don't think we can,' said Bulma as she watched him ladle noodles and soup into bowls.

'Things have changed Korin,' said Vegeta. 'Someone is after us – another time traveller. The time machine is exposed and we can't leave it longer than necessary. I can't leave Bulma either. I won't be staying here any more, but we will still need you to feed us. Neither of us will have the time to take care of ourselves.'

Bulma felt that this was a lot to impose on the old cat. She wondered how Vegeta had managed to convince him to let him stay, and how much he'd told him about their plight. Korin and Vegeta had never even met as far as she knew.

'That's all right. If it helps get the boy back then I'm happy to cook. I always make too much anyway. All those years of living with Yajarobe have ruined my waistline.'

Bulma laughed, but it was a weak, shaky laugh. She took her bowl, and then Vegeta grasped her round the waist with one arm.

He nodded acknowledgement to Korin, and the Tower disappeared from view.

* * *

Bedtime that evening was another thing about their routine that was completely altered. Vegeta watched her while she worked feverishly through the evening, measuring scavenged parts and updating her schematic blueprints to match. Just being watched was discomforting enough for her, though a lot of the time she was so focused on the work that she forgot he was there. Also he spent a lot of time with his eyes closed in apparent meditation. Bulma was just beginning to feel the sleepiness creep in when Vegeta yawned and announced that he couldn't stay awake a moment longer.

'You can go to bed then, I don't mind. I could probably keep working another hour or so.'

'Woman, you don't understand. I don't even want to leave you out here in the lab while I'm in the house.'

She looked up at from the laptop, staring at a point on the wall. Apparently Vegeta's plan to keep her safe involved a lot more intimacy that she had expected. In fact, what he said suggested that they were going to live their lives, while they worked on the machine, in tandem. Synchronised. United. The thought was quite uncomfortable to her. The only times she'd lived her life according to anyone else's schedule was in Trunks's first few months, and when she'd been at school. And she'd had to leave school because she couldn't handle it.

'Okay. What are you saying? That because you need to sleep I need to sleep now also?'

'Yes. And don't pretend you're not tired. You've been stifling yawns for the last half an hour.'

'No I haven't!'

'Yes you have. I've been paying attention to you, and you haven't been, so how would you know?'

'If you say so,' she said, and then swallowed her irritation. If she slept now she supposed that in the morning she would wake earlier and the net effect would be no time lost on working on the machine. 'Let's go to bed then.'

She followed him to the house, and then had to wait while he brushed his teeth in the tiny bathroom before she could get to the basin to do hers. Bulma tried to think if she had ever seen Vegeta brush his teeth before. If she had she couldn't recall it. Certainly she'd never seen him do it since he'd arrived from the future, though she'd heard it sometimes while she was still in bed. But then when he went to fetch the trundle bad from her father's office he brought it right into her bedroom whilst she was just in the process of taking her pants off.

'What, are you sleeping in _here_?' she squealed, hopping behind the open door of the wardrobe to hide from view.

'Of course Woman.'

Bulma blushed hotly, wondering how good an eyeful he'd go when he'd walked in. She pulled on the faded sweatpants she used as nightwear, watching him push her bed against the wall so that the trundle bed could fit against the other one. And then, unable to tear her eyes away, she watched him kick off his boots and pull his t-shirt off over his head. The sight of his naked torso scrambled her thoughts for a second - the way his muscles moved and bunched between his olive tinted skin as he balled up his t-shirt and tossed it out the door - but she gathered herself.

'Is that entirely necessary?' she asked.

'You want me to sleep fully clothed?'

'Ha!' said Bulma nervously, suddenly feeling like a self-conscious dork for hiding in the wardrobe while Vegeta stripped to his underwear in front of her. 'I meant, is it necessary for you to sleep in the same room as me?'

'You saw how quickly Trunks could find you. Yes, I do think it's necessary.'

'Oh,' said Bulma. But then he sat down on her bed and got in it.

'Wait a minute!' she cried. 'What do you think you're doing climbing in there?'

'This is my bed, where I've been accustomed to sleeping when I'm here.'

'Oh really?' said Bulma, getting properly angry now. 'Actually, this is _my_ bed, where _I_ am accustomed to sleep! And I've only just got it back from you and Oolong. I think maybe it's _your_ turn to sleep on the trundle bed!'

He glowered at her, growling, but then suddenly he laughed out loud instead.

'Whatever you say Woman! What does it matter? I'll have _my_ very own bed back in a matter of weeks.'

After the light was out and Bulma had surreptitiously changed into her pyjama shirt she lay on her bed, angry and unable to banish the presence of Vegeta, lying just a few feet away, from her awareness. His gloating reminder that he'd soon be home and happy had hurt her in a way she didn't want to examine. Listening to his quiet breath the old, replayed memories returned. She remembered laying panting, tangled together, sweaty and sticky and slippery. She remembered an endless night when they had made love again and again, talking and arguing afterwards, only to fall back together until the sun finally came up. She remembered falling asleep on top of him only to wake in the night alone. She and her Vegeta had never slept through a whole night together when they were lovers. Now he would stay...but not as a lover.

Vegeta woke before her in the morning.

'Get up Woman. I'm hungry.'

* * *

Bulma had a bright idea to carry around the most essential of the machine's components whenever they left the lab. She encapsulated her laptop and all the parts except the time drive, which was impossible to encapsulate, and she found a backpack to carry this on her back. Much reassured, Vegeta allowed them to stay to eat at Korin's Tower sometimes and venture out for materials again.

Venturing out meant either meant being carried on Vegeta's back, or allowing him to hold her while he used instant transmission.

This method of travel was disconcerting for Bulma (not just because of the sudden dislocation – having to be close enough to Vegeta for him to grab her or put an arm around her was also unsettling), however they were becoming quite dependent on it. Anywhere further than a twenty minute hoverjet ride or ten minutes flying at the speed of an impatient Vegeta, they went via Vegeta-porting, as Bulma privately called it. For short trips he explained, it used more energy to use instant transmission than to do it the long way, but over longer distances instant transmission was ideal because it used the same amount of energy whether they were going to the market or to the moon. The break-even point for Vegeta was about an hour's flight, but after Trunks's visit an hour spent flying was simply too long for him to abide.

'Why didn't you let me know you could do this before?' complained Bulma. 'Have you just been holding out on me?'

'There was simply no trip worth using it on that I took with you. I used it a lot when I was playing fetch and carry for you.'

'What about that trip to Gero's lab? That was easily an hour's flight.'

'Was it?' said Vegeta. He was leaning against the wall of the hanger at the time, watching her smelt steel. He crossed his arms and frowned. 'I think you are mistaken.'

'Yes, it was,' she said, wiping sweat from her forehead with the back of her gauntlet. 'Definitely more than an hour. And from what you've said, you must have done that trip from here to Gero's many times. Explain that.'

Instead his brows came lower and he let out a growl, lifting his lip on one side to bare his teeth. It was a vicious expression, a warning that she should back off, but Bulma found it didn't intimidate her as much as it used to. The wolf-like sound made her excited. She knew he wouldn't hurt her, from his need for a working time machine if nothing else.

All right then,' she said. 'Then I shall either put it down to stupidity or an excuse to lay hands on me.'

'Insufferable woman!'

* * *

In truth Vegeta didn't know why he'd flown with her to Dr Gero's and back. The day he arrived in this timeline he'd flown there instead of using instant transmission to stretch and feel the wind in his hair, and to be nosey – to see and sense as much about this timeline as he could in the time he took to get there and back. But if he'd been more business like about it and used instant transmission, he would have caught Trunks and Bulma before they'd managed to jimmy his time machine, and he would be home and dry by now. When he'd returned that evening with her, his main thought had been to teach her a lesson for stealing his machine, and for scolding for him for bringing her the wrong hoverjets. He'd had fun scaring her - that was kind of a reason, although a petty one it seemed now. However on the way back, with the sun setting and the warmth of that and of her body wrapped around his…that he had even less explanation for.

Many of his actions since arriving in this timeline seemed illogical in retrospect, even when they'd seemed the right thing to do at the time. Hiding away from her now seemed silly, as it had just slowed her work on the machine down. He'd run from her because of the pain she caused him, just by being Bulma, and not _his_ Bulma. But it had cost time and a great deal of his peace-of-mind to know that she was close by but unprotected. He'd thought of not much else while he was at Korin's Tower. So he had spied on her, to make sure she was all right, and told himself that this was the act of a cautious man, and nothing else. The truth was that since he'd been back in her company it had been a relief beyond words, and each time he looked over at her, woke up next to her, or just caught her scent as she moved past his he breathed easier.

Even now, exchanging barbs and snarls while he stood guard, exceptionally bored, there was nowhere else in this universe he'd rather be. The pain he'd felt before when she said or did things that reminded him of his lost home had receded, and that worried him a lot. He felt guilty about it. He felt guilty looking at her now, lingering on the way her sweat-damp tank top clung to her breasts, the grime that was smeared across her forehead, the sweat that trickled down the back of her neck, and the way the over-large metal working gloves made her look tiny, like a little girl playing with her father's tools.

It must just be the proximity he told himself. He didn't think that he'd ever spent so much time consistently in the company of another person, not even his own mate. They'd always had a lot of room in both their house and their relationship to let each other be their own person. Watching over this Bulma was a chore. What else was there to do besides watch the way her shorts revealed the top of her buttocks when she leant over?

'Get a grip,' he told himself. 'You're going home soon, to the _real_ Bulma.' But the 'real' Bulma's face was slowly being eclipsed in his memory by this one's. He'd caught himself time after time, about to ask her questions that only his Bulma would know the answer to, or about to lay a hand on the back of her neck or pull her against him, or any number of affections that weren't for her. He was constantly battling this confusion of heart. This surely, was the best reason yet for avoiding all Bulmas? But what choice did he have?

* * *

Bulma changed in the bathroom and then jumped hurriedly into bed. She wished her nightclothes were more presentable. She also wished she had more privacy at night. Vegeta acted like he couldn't care less.

'Is this really truly necessary?' she muttered again.

'If the Supreme Kai appears right here in the bedroom while I'm outside, what do you think is going to happen?'

Bulma considered this. Was it possible that an attack could come here, right in her house under Vegeta's nose?

'How would he get past you if you were sleeping in the lounge? Could he just sneak past?'

'He wouldn't need to. Like I said, he would just appear, out of thin air.'

Bulma felt a wave of cold horror roll over her. The security she'd been feeling with Vegeta around suddenly evaporated.

'What would you do if he appeared here right now?' she asked in a small voice.

Vegeta reached out over the gap between the beds and grabbed her hand where it lay on the coverlet.

'And then we'd be gone,' he said.

His quiet assurance and the firm grip of his hand steadied her somewhat.

'The Supreme Kai, he can use instant transmission just like you?'

'It's not the same technique, but yes, roughly.'

'Then why hasn't he just appeared before now? It's been four days since that Time Patrol Trunks talked to us.'

'I'm not sure why. Trunks never said when he might be turning up in this timeline, and I was in too much of a hurry to get you away and check on the time machine to ask.'

She began to tremble, despite herself. 'So it could be anytime, without warning? He decides to show up and then POOF! He's here while I'm asleep in bed, or in the shower or, or-'

He squeezed her hand. 'It's harder than that for him to find you.'

'But you can find me instantly, can't you?'

'Yes. Instant transmission works by either concentrating on a place you know, or a person you know. It doesn't matter where the person is, you'll find them. The Kai's technique is a bit different though. He can go places that he knows or has observed or sensed from the Planet of the Kais. That's what they do you know, spy on the rest of us from afar. He can only go to a person when he can sense their Chi. I've been keeping my Chi low, and attempting to disguise it when I'm awake. When I'm asleep it's usually lower anyway. Your Chi is too weak to pick up if you're any further than a couple of hundred yards away, so unless he appears in the Capsule Compound I think he'll be unable to exactly hone in on you. And if he does appear on the grounds I'll have a moments notice before he can get a fix on you.'

'Wouldn't he be able to observe where I am from the Kai planet and jump right here?'

'No. I don't think so. This is a new timeline. It's probably unobserved yet.'

Bulma let out a big breath. 'Good! Good. That's good to know.' Suddenly she wanted him on the bed next to her, his arms around her all night to keep her safe, not just at arms reach. Instead she reluctantly let go when he pulled his hand away.

'Thank you Vegeta.'

'I'm only doing what is necessary.'

'Even so.'

* * *

The time machine was taking shape. Bulma had cast the steel legs and secured them to the big ring that would form the skeleton of the pod. Onto this she was securing housings for the various components, and wiring the thing. She had some of the sheets of metal for the skin beaten into shape already. It was going well, despite her nerves being frayed by the thought of a murderous Supreme Kai appearing at any second. She jumped at any unexpected sound or movement.

One morning when she was heading up to get the eggs from the chickens with Vegeta on her heels, she screaming in fright to see a large body descending out of the sky, but it was only Android 16.

'Sorry to startle you Bulma Briefs. I merely came to visit for some advice. Do you know a builder?'

It turned out that the plan to build the house on the bank of West River was not going well. The three androids knew a lot more about taking a building down than putting one up. Bulma was reluctant to send them to anyone she knew; they were killer androids after all. Not to mention that she didn't have a moment to spare to think of the plight of homemaker robots.

'Look, I don't have time right now,' she said, 'but I've got something you could use for the next while until I do.'

She handed over her last capsule house. It was a prize beyond rubies, but right now nothing seemed more valuable than time.

'Thank you Ms Briefs. Is there anything I could do to help you in return?'

'No, thank you Sixteen, there's…No, wait!' she looked at Vegeta, and saw the same idea dawn in his eyes.

'He's strong enough I think,' said Vegeta. 'At the very least to hold him off long enough for me to get there. And he doesn't sleep.'

Bulma nodded. 'Sixteen, would you be available to guard something for us for the next few weeks?'

'I am.'

So it was decided. Sixteen went to deliver the house to the other two and tell them where he would be for the next while. When he came back they showed him the time machine and told him everything. Bulma was past the fear of trusting an Android. Sixteen's reaction when he understood what they were up to was reassuringly accepting, and not overly excited. He seemed neither inclined to steal or sabotage the thing. He was, in fact, apologetic that the rampage of 17 and 18 had forced Trunks and Bulma into such an action.

'I hope you do get your son back. I would like to meet him.'

Vegeta went to fetch the third communicator from Oolong and returned sniggering because Oolong had nearly climbed the wall in fear when he had appeared, and then begged not to go back to the lab. Bulma rigged all the communicators to be three-way and open-channel all the time. Now they could call for help or give a warning without having to hail each other. Indeed, everything they said would be broadcast to each other.

That first night Bulma had an idea that got Vegeta out of her bedroom. She convinced them that since Sixteen didn't sleep, and they now had the open communicators, and Vegeta would sense the Kai's arrival anyway if he was awake, and she was arguably the more important asset, that Sixteen should stand guard over her in the bedroom while Vegeta slept in the hanger with the machine. She could see that Vegeta wasn't happy with that, but she'd covered every base with her argument, and he didn't object.

But as she lay in bed with the massive shape of Sixteen looming over her she knew she'd made a mistake. She couldn't sleep because she felt scared without Vegeta, and she'd pushed him away. She'd also achieved no more privacy with Sixteen in the room. It turned out that she now thought of Sixteen as a person too, a person she still had problems trusting, and certainly someone she didn't want to have watch her getting undressed.

At three o'clock in the morning she admitted defeat. Her fear was too great, rational or not, and she would not sleep until he was back. She turned on the bedside lamp.

'I'm sorry for jerking you around Sixteen, but I've changed my mind. I think it would be better if Vegeta was in here while you guarded the machine. Nothing personal. Nothing, you know, rational.'

'I understand,' he answered, calmly.

'Oh good, because I don't.'

'Sentiment is a strong force. I am not immune myself. And Vegeta would be much happier if he were the one guarding you. Besides, I think he could keep you safer than I could.'

'How'd you get so nice Sixteen?'

He smiled. 'I was made that way, accidentally.'

Now she spoke directly into the communicator. 'Vegeta! Are you awake?' There was no answer. 'Vegeta? Vegeta? Wake up Vegeta!'

'What! Where are you Woman?'

Vegeta appeared that instant, groggy and dressed just in his underwear.

'Sorry, I didn't mean to panic you! I just think that…I…' Now what was she going to say? 'I think I'd feel much safer after all if you were in here and Sixteen in the hangar.'

Vegeta's lip curled back in a full snarl of fury.

'Or not!' she back-pedalled.

'No!' said Vegeta. 'Idiot Woman! Stay there, I'll get the bed.'

A couple of minutes later the trundle bed was reinstated and Sixteen was in the hangar. Bulma was just settling back in relief when Vegeta scooped her up and rolled her roughly onto the small bed.

'That's for disturbing my sleep and making a nuisance of yourself,' he said, smirking at her squeal of protest while climbing into the queen sized bed. 'Of _course_ it's safer if I'm in here with you! What were you thinking?'


	20. Slippery When Wet

The following morning, she and Vegeta went hunting for plexiglass domes. Bulma darted around the house grabbing her tape measure, a capsule and a map.

'Ready?' asked Vegeta, standing impatient with his arms crossed.

'Ready,' confirmed Bulma, and with a familiar ease from their many recent trips, she leapt at Vegeta and he caught her in his arms. She closed her eyes as she jumped, and when she opened them again they were on the ground in the ravaged central square of Gingertown. She found it easier this way – the whole jumping and eye-closing thing made it seem somehow like some kind of travel had happened, whereas if she just stood there it felt like the world changed around her – a most peculiar and unnatural sensation. Also, if she just walked up to Vegeta for him to put an arm around her it felt far too intimate and she was likely to get a little hot under the collar. No, better to not look, just jump.

From the centre of Gingertown they had to make their way to the industrial area on the outskirts. A hoverjet factory had once churned out luxury vehicles there. She consulted the map and then climbed onto Vegeta's back for the flight to the factory. Dense grey clouds hovered on the horizon. Bulma hoped they weren't coming this way, because scavenging in the rain was even less fun than normal scavenging.

She had extra reason to be bothered around Vegeta this morning. After she had finally fallen asleep to the sound of Vegeta's quiet breathing she had dreamt that she had met Sixteen and Vegeta at a bar. Sixteen was drunk (obviously impossible for an android, but it was a dream) and he'd greeted them thusly:

'Bulma, Vegeta, Vegeta, Bulma, you know each other right?' Vegeta had said that of course they knew each other, to which Sixteen replied, 'Oh yeah, because she's that girl that you're so into! Just so you know, she's just as in to you as you're into her!' And then he had staggered away leaving Vegeta and Bulma staring at each other, pleasure and embarrassment dowsing her in equal measure.

'Is that true?' asked Bulma. But she'd woken before she'd gotten an answer to that question. Now she pondered the dream, relishing that moment of pleasure when she'd heard that Vegeta wanted her as much as she wanted him. But it was just a dream - a dream that really confused her while she clung to the back of the subject's shoulder. It didn't tell her anything about what the real Vegeta might feel about her, but she kept having to push down the feeling that it did. _He's going home to his wife and kids_ , she reminded herself again.

The dream was just as disturbing in what it hinted at her feelings for him. She'd been trying not to think of such things, even though they'd broken the surface again and again – when he'd called her his Woman, when she'd made an ass of herself in her office the night she'd tried to give him the gloves, and last night when she couldn't sleep without him in the room, and not just because she was scared.

Her wilful self-ignorance would no longer stretch to deny that she was hot for Vegeta. The feel of his skin, the smell of it, the way his dark eyes gleamed with gleeful vindictiveness when he'd announced that her shower would be cold because he'd used up all the hot water this morning. She wanted him. She wanted him badly and being this close to him was both wonderful and horrible.

Beyond the growing heat she felt though, what did she feel about him? She was worried, because she'd been deliberately trying to keep things light. Something had been growing even so, unexamined and ignored. What was this feeling she'd been having since he was back? It was something she hadn't felt for a long, long time…something from her youth…something to do with Goku…

'Woman, are you day dreaming? I asked you which side of the river is it on!'

She had forgotten. 'Just a second!' She pulled the map up from where it was trapped between her and Vegeta and tried to wrestle it about in the wind to show the right section. 'Hey, slow down! I'm trying to navigate here!'

Vegeta growled. 'Give me that thing!' He reached back and grabbed the map off her.

'Hey, what!'

'You were taking too long. I thought you were some kind of genius?'

'I hadn't even found the right place on the map yet!'

'Case closed. Clearly you are an _idiot_ savant.'

'You jerk Vegeta! And look, now who's the idiot? You're going the wrong way!'

'No, look, we're _here_ on the map, and the industrial park is on the East side.'

'That's the industrial park for North City - you're not even looking on the right _side_ of the map! How you manage to navigate a spaceship with map reading skills like that is beyond me!'

As they bickered their way closer to the bleak block of demolished factories she realised what this feeling was. They were a team, just like she'd been a team with Goku. And Yamcha and Krillin and all the others. Vegeta was her friend, as strange as the friendship was, and just like Yamcha before him, he was her friend whether they were lovers or not.

 _Oh crap_ , she thought to herself. _I'm going to miss him when he's gone. I'm going to miss him a LOT!_

Vegeta unexpectedly dropped her the last two feet to the ground with a 'ha!' of mean enjoyment, just to watch her stagger.

She walked ahead of him without responding to his provocation, trying to suppress the sudden up welling of sadness.

'What's wrong?' he said as she headed straight into the collapsed main entrance.

'Nothing.'

'Clearly something is. I recognise the huffy walk of the wounded Woman.'

'Nothing's wrong!'

'If I hurt your weak Earthling body just then, I apologise.'

She made a noise of exasperation. 'Don't worry Vegeta, I'm not _that_ fragile. Let's just get on with this, shall we?'

It was slow going. Vegeta had to move whole sections of roof and collapsed catwalks and pipework just to find out what was underneath. The production line area was extensively damaged. They had more luck when they decided to investigate the smaller storage warehouses behind. The twisted metal and concrete of these buildings was single layer, so finding what was inside was easier. They'd already found one building full of different sized windshields. No domes yet though. Bulma knew that they were used in a few of the larger hovercrafts that this company used to make, so she was confident there would be some somewhere.

She followed Vegeta as he heaved debris out into the courtyard. He was wearing a sleeveless T-shirt today and the movement of muscles in his shoulders, arms and back was mesmerising. To pull herself away from this distraction she asked something that had been on her mind a while now.

'Why is that Time Patrol Trunks helping the Kai? Are you really a fugitive?'

'I was only a fugitive after they decided time travel was a crime. So yes, according to them I am.'

'Is time travel really so bad?'

Vegeta didn't answer for a while. 'Yes and no. The Kai's created their own problems. When they realised that many time lines were being created they could have left well enough alone – there was still as many Kai planets as timelines all watching their own universes, ignorant to the others. But then one timeline's brainiac Kais panicked and performed magic to fuse the Planet of the Kais' of all timelines. It was already the nexus of the universe, and now it's the nexus of _all_ universes. They wanted an overview of what was happening, and they got it all right! There's no way they can keep up with overlooking the thousands and thousands of universes out there that exist. It's their own stupid fault, but they decided to fix the problem by clamping down on time travel.

'But time travel is inherently bad for other reasons I've come to know. It's messy, it creates negative outcome universes in which the time traveller never returns, whether they are successful or not, and it can go horribly wrong. Also, having a time machine doesn't mean that it gets used for good or that they don't get hijacked and stolen.'

'Sorry about that again.'

'Huh,' said Vegeta. 'I had almost forgotten that your act of larceny got us into this situation.'

Bulma felt the heavy hand of shame and regret on her again. They continued in silence for a few moments, and Bulma was glad he had his back to her, but after a while he continued his explanation.

'As disastrous and irresponsible as your theft was, there are worse consequences of a stolen time machine. That's one of the reasons for the Time Patrol.'

'Trunks said he lives on the planet of the Kais'. And that he collapses timelines.'

'He does, and he does.'

'Why and how?'

'Why?' Vegeta paused and bent a steel girder to prop up a wall slab out of their way. 'I think they took on one of their first main offenders as an enforcer, that's why. And how…I'm not sure. He has hinted that it's something that will happen in the distant future that will homogenise the timelines.'

'It sounds worryingly cataclysmic. But Trunks got here in a time machine. Surely that's causing as much damage as any other machine?'

'Apparently not. I asked Trunks about that once. It's a far advanced machine. It clips the N branch where it appears, so there is no negative outcome universe. The timeline is diverted, but the original one doesn't continue to exist.'

Bulma boggled at the thought. 'Did the Kais create this technology?'

'No. You did.'

'I did?!'

'That Trunks's mother works for the Time Patrol also, living on the Planet of the Kais, inventing and maintaining the ungodly technology.'

'I'm working against myself as well?'

'I think she might have mixed feelings about the Kais directive on this one. Think about what you said to me about caring whether I lived or died, not matter what universe I was from.'

Bulma felt a qualm at being paraphrased out of context like that. She'd said those words in spite on the first day that she'd lost Trunks and gained a Vegeta. The way Vegeta told it, it sounded more like an expression of boundless compassion towards him. But it was true. She cared.

Vegeta continued. 'Do you think any Bulma would be happy to let any Trunks die when he could be saved? You'll notice that Trunks wasn't exactly trying to bring me in when he visited. He warned us. He's given me more tip-offs, warnings and actual assistance over the years than I care to mention, in between some genuine attempts to capture me or my machine. He's not sure where his loyalties truly lie either.'

'So, in a way, we have an inside man?'

'Maybe. Or maybe the Supreme Kai has banished him for being the weak-willed turncoat he is.'

'Hey! Don't talk about him like that! He's helping us. And he's my son, kind of.'

'Not just your son,' muttered Vegeta. 'Mine too, kind of.'

'Domes!'

'What?'

'Plexiglass domes!' cried Bulma, pointing excitedly at the concrete dust covered things Vegeta had just exposed. He cleared a wider area, and she clambered in, measuring, looking for the right ones. She unstacked them, rolled them over, measuring dome after dome. A few drops of rain had started to fall, making the things slippery. She dropped one on her toe and hopped around for a minute before picking up her tape measure again. Come on, there had to be some!

When she found one at last she let out of cry of victory and turned with a grin to Vegeta. The look she glimpsed on his face at that moment sent a warm jolt through her, releasing butterflies in her stomach and a heat in her loins. She saw longing and lust, but just for a second, and then it was gone, making her doubt her own eyes.

'You've found one? Good, then lets get out of here.'

'Not yet. Take this one Vegeta. I need to find another.'

'Another? What do you need another for?'

'For the lower hatch.'

He eyed her suspiciously. 'Your time machine doesn't have a lower hatch.'

'This one does.'

'Why?'

'It's technical.'

'Technical?' It was clear from his tone that he didn't believe her, and she blushed because he was right, she was lying. But she didn't want to tell him the reason why until she had to – until it was done, and there would be no arguing over whether it was necessary or not.

'Just hold this one okay? It's not going to take long.'

The second dome she needed was smaller. She exhausted the ones in her immediate area and climbed over girders and down the side of tilted concrete slabs to get at more, Vegeta shadowing her several yards behind.

The rain started to fall harder, and she cursed, sure that Vegeta was about to lose patience with her at any moment and she would either have to explain what she was planning or go home without.

Suddenly there was a silent, bright flash. 'The Kai!' Moving like a cat she leapt over slippery plexiglass and concrete and threw herself at Vegeta, who caught her neatly.

When she opened her eyes they were still in the warehouse, the rain falling on them, her heart hammering a thousand miles an hour.

'Bulma, it was only lightning. Not the Supreme Kai.'

As if to emphasise this, a massive peal of thunder started ripping through the clouds overhead. Bulma gave a shaky laugh and unwrapped her legs from around his hips, standing on her feet again, but she didn't let go, and neither did he, and for that she was grateful because the wave of fear was still receding and her legs felt like jelly. She stood with her cheek against his shoulder for a few moments longer, her nose filled with the now-familiar scent of him.

'There's no need for the quivering,' he said.

She looked up crossly, sure he was mocking her, but instead he looked down at her with a frown of worry. She was instantly touched by his concern, a smile creeping over her face despite her shakiness.

* * *

He was undone.

That split second of fear when she had leapt for him, fear for her, had nearly carried them to another planet before he realised that there was no threat, only lightning. And then the relief of it – no Kai, no attack, no harm to her – was joyous. She'd wrapped herself around him, utterly trusting. What a foolish, vulnerable, pretty creature. She was shaking and he could feel her ragged breath on the bare skin of his shoulder.

'There's no need for the quivering,' he told her, hoping that her trust in him would carry her out of the fear that held her. She looked up, angry, face just inches from his - typical Bulma - but then whatever cutting remark she might have said was forgotten as a smile spread across her face, and it was like the sun breaking through a storm cloud…

Such an obvious thing to do, such a natural thing; he pressed his lips to hers and kissed her. The soft, sweet touch was swiftly overwhelmed; it completed a circuit, and a spark of desire arced as powerful as the lightning overhead, through him, into him, exploding him from the inside out. Longing, lust, heartbreak, happiness, they flashed through him too fast and furious to name. And he knew then his mistake.

He was undone.

The second was over and he let go of her. They both staggered, both wearing open mouthed expressions – hers of wonderment and confusion, his, he was sure, of panic and shame. Now the gap between them filled with cool air, and that felt wrong too. He wanted to wrap himself around her at the same time as he wanted desperately to get away from her. His intentions were like a handful of magnets, all simultaneously attracted to and repelled by the Woman, all so tightly grasped because to let go of them would let them pop and flip out of control. And there she was looking so pleased with herself.

'Just find your blasted dome and let's get out of here!' he yelled at her, wanting it to be her fault what had happened, but knowing it wasn't. He'd kissed her, there was no denying it.

Her happiness evaporated into shock and then anger. 'Nice one, asshole!' she spat. 'Are you going to just pretend that that didn't happen?'

'Absolutely!' he replied, glad that she had suggested this course of action. 'Hurry up, we're getting soaked.'

He watched her turn back to her task and then had to look away, as the sight of her backside in those shorts when she leant over was not easing his turmoil. His insides were seething with so much he was surprised the rain didn't immediately turn to steam when it hit his skin. What had he been thinking? Had he just confused her for his own mate? Deep down he knew that wasn't true. The moment, his heart, her face had all suggested the kiss, and his brain had simply gone along for the ride. When he was so close to his prize he could taste it, why the Hell should he be losing the plot, getting cosy with another Bulma, one he would just have to leave as cruelly as he abandoned his own wife?

When he'd first marooned himself in time he'd been careless, caused a lot of damage out of desperation, but since then, and since coming across the Time Patrol he'd been resolved to cause as little damage to each timeline he visited as possible, even improve it if he could. Kakarott had left him the role of the Earth's defender, and spawning hundreds of broken realities was not the mark of a defender. He'd quickly come to realise that limiting damage meant avoiding emotional damage as well. And it certainly didn't mean setting up house with a lonely Bulma and letting her fall for him before leaving her in the dust of his wake.

To add to that guilt was the guilt he felt at having kissed another woman and _enjoyed it so damned much!_ Even if the other woman was another universe's version of his. She was younger than his too, which only made him feel more ashamed!

He sat down on a wet slab of concrete, pressing his hands to his head to block out the thoughts that were coming now, willing the last few minutes to undo themselves. The kiss threatened to bring down the dam that he'd built in his heart – it held back the shame, the guilt, all undeniably well deserved by him - his whole purpose here was selfish. If he succeeded in what he wanted it would have only been in the name of erasing his own suffering. His Bulma had told him more than once that he was a noble being; that he was a good man now, and he had started to believe her. If she could see what he'd done in the name of his love for her and their children she'd have to take all that back.

He didn't know why he didn't let the Time Patrol take him away. He _was_ a menace. He'd told this Bulma that he'd been searching for his way home for ten years, but he suspected it was longer, more like fifteen, maybe even more. Fifteen years of damage, fifteen years motivated only by getting back to those few things he loved. He couldn't even get back to his real timeline – he was only building one that would be indistinguishable enough that he could take the Vegeta's place when he foolishly used the time machine to fight Cell for fun. The Bulma he left would never know what had happened to him. Forever his own son and daughter would grieve for him. The pain of it made him want to scream.

He remembered the argument that he'd had with Bulma the morning that he'd taken the machine. She said that she'd built it 'just in case', because there were no dragonballs to fall back on any more. He had mocked her for her caution, and insisted it be used. They'd already tested it a few times, but he saw it for it's recreational potential. Where else could he turn now when he wanted a good fight that would shake him to his bones?

What an idiot he'd been! He wanted to punch that Vegeta in the face. He wanted to kill him for his stupidity.

'I _hate_ you!' he hissed at himself. 'You're a fool, you're a fool!'

* * *

Bulma wandered amongst the rubble, still shaking from the triple whammy of fright, thwarted desire and anger. Every so often she measured a dome, but she couldn't keep her mind on the task. Her lips still tingled from his kiss. She kept measuring domes which were obviously too big.

Nervously she glanced behind her, but Vegeta was facing the other way, hunkered down in some pose of anger or misery, she wasn't sure. Blushing with embarrassment herself she climbed though a gap into a new area and put Vegeta out of sight entirely. Why be angry at her? He had kissed her, not the other way around!

Of course, it was probably just a slip up on his part. For a second he must've forgotten that she wasn't his Bulma. She shouldn't take it so much to heart, nor read too much into it. She should be an adult about this. It was, after all, just a kiss on the lips.

But she couldn't forget the swooping elation that she'd felt as his lips closed on hers. Some part of her had dropped all pretence, and burst forth yelling 'Fuck yes, this is what I want!' her body snapping to attention in a heartbeat, and that's what really embarrassed her now. And hurt her.

_I really, really want him!_

It was such a sad, needy thought. Like a lump of cold concrete in her chest. Like slippery heat between her legs.

She slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand.

'Cool it Bulma!' she said aloud.

Lightning flashed overhead. She looked up, and when she looked down again she found herself looking into the huge slanted eyes of a smiling being. He was handsome, nearly pretty, but purple skinned, with flowing white hair, swept back from his face and falling down his back. He wore strange but expensive looking clothes – a cyan shirt with mutton sleeves and over it a scarlet, high collared tunic, piped and embellished in gold – and he smelled like flowers, spice and musk.

'Nice aftershave,' she said.

He grinned. 'Good morning to you too,' he said.

Bulma was just wondering what corner of her lust-soaked brain had conjured this vision when he reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder. The factory disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Review?


	21. Kaioshin

Bulma looked around wildly, her brain just now getting a grip on the situation. They stood on a beach, nowhere she recognised. The man still grinned at her, like they were old friends.

'You're him aren't you? The Kai!'

'Bulma Briefs, it's always a pleasure,' he said. His voice was pleasant, his manner friendly, everything about him suggested that he was gentle, kind and trustworthy. Perhaps it was for this reason that she seemed to be incapable of gathering the necessary sense of fear.

'You speak like you know me,' she said, and then gasped because the scenery changed again. Now they were on a mountainside, and it was dark and windy.

'In a very real way, I do. I've talked to you many, many times, but never here, in this universe. I am Kibito Kai, the Eastern Supreme Kai, and Guardian of the Eastern Universe, in this world and the next. But you may call me Supreme Kai.'

'Are you here to kill me?' Ah, there was the fear after all. Watery knees.

His smile disappeared, and he looked serious. The mountain became Kami's lookout, and Bulma spied Mr Popo watering flowers in the planters.

'Mr Popo!' she screamed.

Mr Popo looked up and smiled, waving, looking very much like he didn't grasp her plight.

'Hello Supreme Kai! Hello Bulma!' he cheered back.

'Help me!' she cried, but the scene dissolved again, and now they stood in a forest in half-light.

'Why do you keep doing that?' she asked, a tremor making it's way into her voice. She tried to pull away from the Kai's hand, or step back, but even though he only touched her gently she found she could hardly move.

The Kai shrugged. 'Evading detection. Right now I expect that Vegeta has noticed you are missing. He won't be able to find you while we keep on the move. He told you I'd be coming didn't he? Did he tell you why?'

'Because you screwed up the multiverse and made time travel illegal.'

The Kai looked insulted. 'Well that's a very one-eyed view of things.'

'He said that the Kais cast a spell to consolidate all the Planets of the Kai in all the multiverses into one, and that meant the Kai couldn't possibly keep track of all the universes. And if you'd left well enough alone each universe would have it's own set of Guardians to look after it.'

'We didn't cast the spell for nothing. It was clear the timelines were interfering with each other. I felt nothing beyond surprise and interest the first time a time traveller appeared in my universe, and the second, and the third, but by fiftieth time the I was becoming alarmed. The points of origin, the travellers, their timelines and their stories were becoming wilder and wilder. Some kind of chain reaction was in process, and my own universe was being buffeted by the unpredictable arrivals of these time travellers and their purposes, whatever they happened to be.'

The Kai looked around and the scenery changed again. Bulma thought that he had forgotten to keep them moving during his speech.

'It wasn't just that though,' he said. 'Something was also happening to the power of the Kais. It was becoming diluted. The threats were increasing and our ability to do anything about it was decreasing, split, we believe, between universes when they diverged.'

Bulma had the sinking feeling that confirmation that what she and Vegeta were doing was wrong was about to be delivered.

'We didn't walk into this thing with our eyes closed. We did our research. We got a couple of time travellers of our own and investigated some other timelines – did some damage of our own I might add, and quite unintentionally. We consulted the Kaioshin of other universes, and they reported the same thing. There was a spell created by the Grand Old Kai, and my timeline was chosen to consolidate on, because although it wasn't even close to the original any more, the universe within it was the least broken. After the spell was cast we _were still_ surprised to discover the extent of the problem. Since then we've been at full strength and working to combat the proliferation of timelines.'

'And the eradication of time travel?'

'Yes.'

Bulma stood trembling while the surroundings changed again. She barely noticed any more.

'Do you kill the time travellers?' she said, wondering if her own Trunks had been picked up in this crackdown.

'Not usually. Usually it's enough just to destroy the machines. Most of them are ignorant to the consequences of time travel, and quite apologetic. We even return them to their own timelines where possible.'

Bulma was a little relived. 'So if you found my son…?'

'I'd bring him back at once. That Vegeta you are with though…'

'Is a repeat offender?'

'Exactly.' The Kai shook his head and made a vicious expression with his pretty lavender face. 'That Vegeta! He'll always let you down, no matter what universe you're in. But then it's impossible to hate him entirely because after wrecking everything he'll come up with some redeeming heroic act. I'll probably let him live, if only because he's so hard to kill, but I absolutely must remove all means to time travel from him.'

They stood on a cliff in the blazing sun of dawn, above the clouds.

'You _are_ going to kill me, aren't you?' she said, tears welling up.

'The word "kill" would suggest violence and pain, and a lack of choice in the matter. I'm going to offer you a choice.'

'What?' she said. 'What choice?'

'Every time machine from every time line can be traced back to you,' he said gently. 'You are the originator of all time travel, of every split reality.' He tapped her forehead. 'What's in here, it's something that shouldn't have existed. It's something unallowable. You are a freak outside of nature Bulma.'

Bulma felt a new sensation – horror. The scene changed again. They were standing in snow in a frozen field.

'Here's your choice. Either you can come with me now to the next world. It would be as easy as we are jumping between locations now – just a second and you'll be in the Eternal Garden. There are people waiting for you there you know. Your friends, your parents…Peace and happiness forever.'

Just a second and she'll be there? It was still scary, and still forever, but didn't sound so bad. Just one thing to check first though.

'Will Trunks be there?'

'No, I'm afraid not.' The Kai looked apologetic. 'A soul enters the Next World in the universe it is alive in when it dies. You see the extent of our predicament? Even the Next World and the Demon Realm are split when someone time travels in this world. Your Trunks will rest for Eternity in the Next World of wherever he's found himself.'

'No! Then I can't!' An eternity without Trunks? 'What's the other choice?'

'You can stay here, and live out your days in this world. I would have to first take away that part of you that can build time machines.' He touched her forehead again and she jerked away in horror.

'You're talking about lobotomising me? No!'

'I'm not talking about anything as severe as lobotomy,' said the Kai. 'Just that technical genius. I'll…average you. Maybe take that sharp edge off your IQ. I doubt you'll even feel anything is missing most of the time.'

Bulma's stared at him, her whole being offended, recoiling. How could she ever say yes to this? How could he even think it tempting?

'And I would still not have Trunks back?'

'No. Even we can't find him Bulma, he's buried too deep. But you'd have this Vegeta. You could even have another child together, if it eases the loss.'

Bulma burst out laughing; a bitter, scornful sound. 'You've got to be kidding! Even if Vegeta was willing, which I doubt! Even if I was able…do you realise how old I am? I'm forty nine! I'd never get pregnant, and if I did it would likely kill me!'

'And if that wasn't an issue? Would that sway you?'

She looked at him, unsure if he was serious. Make her fertile? Let her have another baby to _substitute_ the loss of Trunks?

'I can do it as easy as this,' he added, clicking the fingers of his free hand.

'No! I want my _son_ back! I love Trunks! You won't buy one child with the promise of another!'

The Kai looked disappointed. 'Bulma,' he sighed. 'You're not going to get him back. We can't let you try, and if you did, have you learnt nothing from Vegeta's tale? You won't get him back no matter what you do!'

Bulma's lips started to go numb. Surely he wasn't right? Surely their plan was workable? They just needed time! She needed to buy herself the chance!

'I'll…I'll destroy the time machine! I'll never build another! Please, just don't kill me or take my brain!'

The Kai cocked his head. He smiled, but he looked sad. 'We've tried this before,' he said. 'I trust you Bulma, except when it comes to your children. We both know you're lying. You'll build another just as soon as you think my attention is off you.'

Bulma let out a wail of desperation. Her brain danced about, looking for a way out of this predicament. Dimly she registered that it had been a while since they had shifted scenery. Time! Yes, she just needed a little more time.

She cried out and grasped the front of the Kai's tunic, bowing her head and letting her tears fall on him. She wished that his hold over her allowed her to fall to her knees; she wanted to make this as theatrical and distracting as possible.

'Please, Supreme Kai, is there no other way?'

'No…other way. I'm sorry Bulma.'

She looked up again – looking into his surprised eyes, making hers as wide and beseeching as possible. 'I could look for a while – just one jump there and back. Please!'

'I can't let you! Just those two jumps would create two new timelines, and one of those contains another Bulma, who no doubt, will go on to create another time machine to make untold damage.' He put a hand on the back of her head. 'I'm sorry. I wish it didn't have to be this way.' He looked truly upset. Good! She was upset too! It was her son, life and brain on the line!

'Then I need more time to decide! Please, I can't decide between death and lobotomy like this!'

'I understand. I could give you-'

'A week?'

'No! You could finish the time machine in that amount of time! A few hours perhaps.'

'Four days!'

'One. And then the decision will be made for you.'

'Three! Please!'

'All right, two then. It's all-'

The Kai's face was suddenly lit by a warm golden glow. Bulma saw the instant when his face moved from sympathy to shock. Vegeta's fist closed on the Kai's tunic at the same time, and then she was pulled along at speed just above the snowy ground. The Kai vanished and so did whatever force held her to him. She crashed into a drift of snow, coming up spluttering and shivering and saw Vegeta burning brightly, grasping the Kai's empty red tunic and looking up over her head.

'Keep away from my Woman! I'll kill you next time, immortal being or not!'

'Desist Vegeta! This is enough! You've gone well beyond all sympathy we Kai have held for you! You're deranged!'

Vegeta certainly looked deranged right now. He was furious, The golden light of his Super Saiyan form lit up speckles of spit that flew from his mouth when he snarled 'I am not!'

'You'll never fulfil your plan! Never!'

Vegeta breathed hard, but then mastered himself. 'Well you're wrong. I'm almost there! I'm two jumps from home!'

'You've said that before.'

'Well the other times I was lying!'

'Listen to yourself. Even if you are only two jumps from your end, you're not _going home!_ You're two more shattered universes from living in your custom created fantasy world! Only it's two universes of real souls you're building it from!'

Vegeta said nothing for a moment – his eyes were wide on the Kai. Then he let out a howl of rage and pain. Snow and ice were whipped up, dragged on a wind that spiralled towards Vegeta. He was powering up.

'What do you think you're doing?' yelled the Kai.

Vegeta closed his fists on the air around him, pulling them to him as if pulling in the invisible power that swirled around him. The golden light intensified, and electricity crackled over the surface of his skin. His hair, already golden, stood up in icy hard spikes, his whole aspect appearing to harden into something tougher than flesh and blood. Bulma felt goosebumps rise all over her body, even her own hair was trying to stand on its end from the charge in the air. If he'd looked like a golden angel of mercy as a Super Saiyan, he now looked like a vengeful archangel. She'd never seen this before – what was he?

The Kai's mouth popped open, and then he was gone in the same moment that Vegeta arrived at the spot he had been. Bulma didn't have time to form words before Vegeta was behind her, wrapping an arm around her middle. The frozen landscape was gone and they hung in midair in the hangar.

With horror she saw Android Sixteen take a blow to the chest from the Supreme Kai, a blow that smashed him through the area of the hangar that she'd set up as a smithy, scattering casts, clay pots and an anvil before he slammed into the wall – several feet into the wall. But he rebounded at a run, heading directly back at the Kai who was now turning on the spot to see Vegeta. The Kai held a ball of energy in his fist that he threw not at Vegeta or her, but at the half-built time machine. Vegeta was in it's path as soon as it was let loose, leaving her falling to the floor from six feet in the air. She saw him absorb the blast before she hit the floor hard enough to snap her jaw shut, and jar her feet, ankles, knees and wrists.

Putting the pain out of her head she looked around the hangar for the Kai, but he was gone. Vegeta still floated in front of the time machine. Sixteen was marching towards her looking concerned. He had a large dent on his green body armour and concrete dust in his hair, but he didn't look damaged other wise.

'Bulma Briefs, are you all right?' he asked.

'Yes, but where is the Kai?'

Vegeta barked a reply. 'I'm trying to locate him!' He was frowning in concentration. Whatever he was doing must've been hard because he closed his eyes then and brought two fingers to rest on his forehead as if trying to focus his effort there. When he finally opened his eyes it was with an explosive breath.

'He's gone. He must be back on the Planet of the Kais. It's the only place I can't follow him.'

'I guess they must be watching us from there now,' said Bulma, amazed at how level her voice sounded. 'He seemed to know exactly the right time and place to visit me on Earth.'

Vegeta's face twisted in pain or humiliation, she wasn't sure. Tension was etched all over him. Or perhaps it was this new form. It didn't look likely to loosen up. He dropped to the ground and came to stand in front of where she sprawled, next to Sixteen.

'The question is, when will he return?' he said.

'Two days,' replied Bulma.

Sixteen made a soft, rumbling sound of disquiet.

'Two days? Why then?' asked Vegeta.

'Did you hear our conversation?'

'Some of it. Mostly I was concentrating on trying to find you though.'

Bulma nodded. Maybe it was better if Vegeta didn't know everything that was said. Something about the way Sixteen was looking at her made her think that he at least had heard everything.

'I've got two days to decide it I want to be killed or if I want to let the Kai scramble my brain and live out the rest of my days.' _With you_ , was what she didn't add. She wasn't sure how he'd react right now if she told him he'd been thrown in as a sweetener for the Kai's deal. As this thought flitted through her mind she laughed at the notion of Vegeta being a sweetener. Sweet was the furthest thing from what he looked right now. She put her hand over her mouth to stifle the laugh, aware that it would look like she was hysterical if she started cracking up now. This made her laugh harder. Perhaps she _was_ hysterical?

'Bulma!' barked Vegeta, getting down on his knees. 'What's going on in there? Did he do something to you?'

This poured cold water on her amusement. Had he already done it? Could he have taken that part of her already, and not told her? She didn't feel any different, but then again, he'd said that she might not notice most of the time. 'I don't know!' she said.

'Shit, shit!' cried Vegeta. He looked around and grabbed the first thing to hand. 'What's this?' he asked her.

'It's…it's a…' Panic was getting the better of her – she couldn't think of the words. Vegeta shook her, which made Sixteen upset.

'You will hurt her Vegeta. If she doesn't know, she doesn't know.'

Vegeta stood up and angrily threw down the thing he was holding, which chimed loudly as it rebounded off the concrete floor, flew up and hit the ceiling before landing and bouncing away again, under the chassis of the time machine.

Bulma was outraged by such treatment of a tool. 'Hey Mister, that's one of my father's best socket wrenches! What do you think you're doing?'

Vegeta looked back at her, narrowly. 'So you do know?'

She realised that of course she did. 'It's a titanium alloy socket wrench with a size sixteen head attached! Which you've likely ruined now!'

'What about this then?' He pointed at some wires that hung from the machine.

'Lower hatch release controls. Or they will be.'

Vegeta relaxed a tiny bit. 'Two days…In two days, I don't suppose you could-'

'No,' she said flatly. 'I can't finish it in two days. Even if I didn't sleep at all, it would take me longer than a week. And like you said, sleep deprivation and time travel don't mix.'

Vegeta rubbed his hands over his face and gave a defeated 'ha!' Whatever form he had been holding he let it relax now, softening into the gentler glow of a Super Saiyan.

'Then I will just have to be ready for when he returns.'

She tried to get to her feet, grimacing at her sore wrists, but then gasping at her ankles and feet. Pain lanced through them. Yup, she'd jarred them good. Sixteen stepped forward and lifted her in his arms like she weighed nothing.

'You are injured Ms Briefs. Let me assist you.'

Bulma felt bad for every distrustful thought she'd had for Android Sixteen. He'd defended her machine, taken a beating and was trying to minimise her pain. He truly had a noble and caring central processing unit. Still, she wished Vegeta was the one holding her. She looked over at him, could see him lost in dark forebodings.

'Let me check the house and the rest of the lab first,' Vegeta said, coming to himself. 'I don't trust the Kai.'

* * *

Sixteen propped her up in the corner of the padded bench seat next to the dining table and wrapped ice from the freezer in a tea towel to compress on her ankles. The ice was cold; she began to shiver, so Sixteen fetched her a blanket to wrap herself in. She hadn't realised that she was soaked through from rain, snow and sweat.

_Please don't go into shock_ , she told herself. _I don't have time._

Two days. She could already feel precious minutes slipping past her. She had Sixteen bring her the laptop, some buttered toast, and hot tea with two sugars from her precious sugar supply. She could ice her ankles, write sub routines and stave off shock all at the same time.

'What will you chose if the Kai fellow catches you again?'

Bulma looked up, unpleasantly reminded. 'I don't know. I don't want to die while Trunks is in some other universe. Neither do I want to live as a mental cripple and then still die while he is in another universe.'

'But you could have some years of happiness with Vegeta, if you chose to live.'

'If I chose to have a part of myself excised you mean. I don't know if I'd even be me after the Kai's scrapped that part of me away.'

'Take the sharp edge off your IQ you mean? It's no different from what you did to Seventeen.'

'Huh,' she said, feeling just a small pang of shame. 'Yes it is different. Strength is not your personality or soul.'

'I believe that intellect is not your soul either. Am I wrong?'

Bulma sulked, knowing that he was right, but not wanting to make the prospect of mental incapacitation sound less horrific than she felt it to be. 'Doesn't really matter what I want anyway, does it? If Vegeta's dream is smashed, will he want to stay here with me? He loves _his_ Bulma, his other universe Bulma, not me. Especially if I'm not the same in the head.'

'I think he cares for you,' said the android. 'Although, I am not well versed in human interactions.'

'Yes, you've been activated for what? Two and a half months now? Vegeta cares for me because I'm a means to an end. And I remind him of his wife. But I'm not his wife.'

All at once she felt heavy with despair. Every which way she turned in this situation was heartbreak. This life was not fair.

The sound of someone on the stair made her look up, and Vegeta entered, still glowing, but the light flickered and went out as he crossed to the dining table. He was just plain Vegeta now, looking as tired and defeated as she felt. He tucked something in the pocket of his jeans as he sat down next to her – the communicator.

_Brilliant_ , she thought to herself glumly. _So he's heard all that then._

He put his head in his hands, his fingers laced through his black spikes of hair. She couldn't take her eyes off him. Sixteen placed some tea in front of him, but Vegeta made no acknowledgement.

When he at last lifted his head he said 'I'm sorry Bulma.'

She blinked. Sorry was not a word she'd heard much from Vegeta's lips. 'What for exactly?'

'I failed us.'

'But you saved me.'

'But I let him get to you in the first place.'

'That wasn't really your fault.'

'Yes it was! I let my eyes off you. I let my mind off you. I knew he was hunting. I failed you in more ways than you know, so stop arguing!'

Bulma sat still, watching the display of abject regret before her. Her wasn't really looking at her, but at her hands around the mug she held.

'It won't happen again!' he hissed. 'I'm not going to let it all come undone! You won't have to give him an answer because he won't get a chance to ask the question.' He glanced up at her face and away again. 'Now, take this,' he said, brandishing something small, pale and shiny.

'A Senzu bean?' she exclaimed, scandalised. 'I'm not that badly hurt. I doubt anything is even broken!'

'You're hurt enough to be off your feet,' he said sternly, looking at her again. 'We don't have time for you to be lazing around recovering.'

'But it's a Senzu bean! It's precious!'

'From Korin, with love! Now don't argue, take it!' He reached over, forcing her mouth open with one hand and jamming the bean between her teeth with the other, standing over her and glaring at her like the scariest mother hen that ever existed. She thought he might actually force her to chew and swallow it too, so she quickly complied. It was a tasteless thing, crunchy on the outside and creamy in the middle. She washed it down with some tea and then felt the strangest sensation spread from her stomach.

Vegeta looked on with a grim expression as a slow wave of tingling moved throughout her body, erasing every sore spot, eliminating every bruise, knitting each strain and undoing the knot of every minor kink in her body. When it was done, she stood up gasping, suddenly more full of energy and ease than she had been in years.

'Wow that's powerful stuff!' she said. 'I don't think I've felt this good since I was about twenty years old!'

'Good,' said Vegeta, picking up his mug of tea and pausing to down it in one. 'Because you've got plenty more work to do today.'


	22. Chapter 22

They went back to pick up the domes. Bulma thought he wouldn't let her find the second smaller one, but he stuck right by her side as she searched, and very quickly she found a couple that were likely candidates. She couldn't measure them exactly because she'd lost her tape measure, but if the one didn't fit the other would.

They also went hunting for hinges, screws and rubber that afternoon. Vegeta conducted these excursions so briskly that Bulma hardly stepped foot on the ground. Most of her searching and directing was done from Vegeta's back, and if they were having trouble finding what they were looking for in one location he whisked them off to another to try, so that they were never in one place for more than five minutes.

When they went to Korin's Tower to pick up their dinner the big cat frowned at the two of them. He had just enough time to say 'Take care young lady - it looks to me as if the wheels are coming off this wagon,' before Vegeta had them back in the house.

After dinner she, Sixteen and Vegeta cleaned up and repaired as best they could the metal working equipment that had been mowed over.

Vegeta was a reassuring but gloomy constant presence at her side. He was never more than a few feet away, and when she walked from one side of the lab to the other, he followed. He did however, complain about it.

'Will you warn me next time you take off like that? I was in the middle of pouring this gunk down the sink!' and 'Can you not have a thought pop into your head without immediately acting upon it? I'm getting dizzy walking backwards and forwards like this.' She took it on the chin, grateful that he was there. Her gratitude was tested though when she discovered that even going to the bathroom was going to be a tandem effort. There had been a flurry of argument and negotiation. The solution agreed upon was that Bulma would use the toilet with the door open, and Vegeta would stand just outside with his back turned, and vice versa. While Bulma used the toilet she would have to hum, talk or sing a song to let him know that she hadn't been abducted right off the pot.

'Humiliating! Mortifying! Performance cramping!' Bulma fumed and kept up a litany of adjectives to describe her situation the first time she used the toilet under this new regime, until Vegeta roared that he was hardly having the time of his life either. Later that evening when he was the one that needed to go she got to experience the situation from the other side, and was hard pressed to say which role was the more embarrassing – the pooper's or the listener's (and sniffers she added as she held her nose).

It was well past midnight when the senzu bean rush that had powered her all afternoon faded. She was tired, and more worryingly, little tremors kept erupting from her, uncontrollable and unexpected spasms of dread. _Oh good_ , she thought to herself. _Delayed shock._

She looked over at Vegeta. He looked exhausted, and he was frowning at her. A bizarre thought ran through her head and away – perhaps the Kai had set her brain to shrink slowly and Vegeta could see she was getting dumber, and that's why he was looking at her funny. She dismissed it as soon as it occurred, but it still sent a wave of faintness though her.

'Sleep,' he commanded. 'Now.'

She didn't argue, and he scooped her up, carrying her through to the house and laying her on her bed. She started to strip down to her underwear and t-shirt, no longer caring what Vegeta saw after the toilet farce, but she began shaking hard, making it hard to get her jeans off. Vegeta wordlessly took over from her, pulling them off and tossing them into the open wardrobe. Bulma rolled under the covers and listened to the sounds of Vegeta undressing, waiting for the moment that he would turn the light out and the shade of the Kai to come out and taunt her with his impossible choices.

But then the bed moved as Vegeta climbed into it, and she opened her eyes in surprise. He wasn't in his usual underwear, but had changed into one of Trunks's old t-shirts and sweatpants. As he lay down on the bed beside her, it was on the tip of her tongue to ask him what he thought he was doing, but on second thought she was glad, and very, very grateful that he wouldn't be sleeping all the way on the other side of the room.

'Don't keep me awake all night with that shivering,' he warned her.

'I'll t-t-t-try not t-t-to.'

He looked across the pillows at her, frowning, worried, and something else. Was it pity, or disdain? Something was breaking inside her. Did it matter if it was pity or disdain?

Vegeta sighed, and then he rolled her over, gathering her tense, shivering body against his own. Bulma held her breath while he settled himself behind her, arm around her, face at the back of her neck, warmth flooding through from his body where his chest and thighs touched her. And then she breathed easy. She was completely at his mercy. She was more dependant on him than she had ever been to anyone ever before, and if he thought that holding her while they slept would help keep her safer then she would allow that. In fact she felt safer already.

Her shivering eased off to nothing as the body warmth and the familiarity relaxed her, edging her closer to sleep. Yes, this was nice…She'd allow this…

* * *

Vegeta jerked awake for the third time that night. The sleeping Bulma had just hit him in the throat with her flailing hand. Her looked across at her, annoyed, but he'd known what this was going to be like when he'd climbed into the bed beside her. Bulma Briefs was surely the most inconsiderate, space hogging, restless sleeper on the planet, and that was the reason he had still kept his own bed in the Brief's house after thirty odd years with the woman. Well, actually, he had never shared a bed with any other Earthling, so maybe she was about average, but he doubted it. No human anywhere could possibly get enough sleep if they all thrashed around next to their husbands and wives like Bulma did. She was certainly worse than any of Frieza's soldiers or henchmen he'd been forced to share a trench or a room with during his years with the tyrant.

The bedside lamp was still on, with a shirt draped over the top of it to dim the light. He didn't want them to be sleeping in darkness from now on, not when the threat could be in here in an instant. He took her hand, flicking it not-too-gently off him. He knew it wouldn't wake her.

Rolling up onto his elbow he looked down at her again. She looked younger in sleep, she always did, and yet…there was something subtly different about her since he'd pried her from the Supreme Kai. It worried him. It might just be the effect of the Senzu bean, but he thought he might have seen it even before he gave it to her.

He sniffed her experimentally. Her scent as already all over him, but by going right to the source he hoped his Saiyan sense of smell might tell him more. He sniffed her wrist, her armpit, her neck and her mouth. She merely smelt good. Well, not merely good, _very_ good. It stirred appetites better left unprodded if he hoped to sleep at all again tonight.

No more sniffing then. Her mouth did look soft though. That kiss he'd given her this afternoon seemed a million miles away now. Had he really fallen apart like that, just because of an accidental kiss? And the kiss wasn't what had let his guard down - it was his pathetic meltdown into remorse and self-pity that had distracted him completely from what he was meant to be doing. He wished he'd paid more attention to the kiss now. It was his first in fifteen years.

He replayed it in his head, and was rewarded by the echo of that bolt of burning passion that had ripped through him. God he missed her. And yet he had her here, lolling on the mattress beside him. The differences between her and the Bulma he left behind were inconsequential next to the overwhelming similarity between them. They were the same. His heart, his body, sometimes even his brain didn't know the difference.

He reached out a finger and brushed it across her cheek. So soft. So delicate. How was he meant to keep something so frail alive long enough to finish their task with the Supreme Kai after her? He just simply _must_. The thought of her petal pale skin gone the cold pallor of death was unthinkable. Not just for his sake – for her sake he would get them through this safely, somehow.

What was the other choice the Kai had given her? Turning down the volume on her brain? The idea was repulsive to him, like suggesting he let the Kai cut off one of his woman's arms or take her eyes in return for her life. And then they'd both be stuck here, childless. No Trunks and Bra for either of them. Would it be so bad? Yes, it would be very bad! But not as bad as her lying still as stone, her spirit gone to the Eternal Garden in the next world, a place that in all likelihood, he would not be able to follow her. There was no handy chart or indicator to let him know how he was going, but he had the feeling he'd really screwed up his salvation from Hell lately.

He'd just have to make sure it didn't come down to either of those choices.

He pushed her across onto her side of the mattress, laughing because even that didn't wake her, and tucked her legs back under her. Then he lay down, hoping for sleep to claim him before she started squirming around the bed again.

* * *

Bulma awoke slowly. Her mother was laughing, delighted, spinning around the kitchen.

'Oh I always said he was husband material, didn't I? I mean Yamcha is a _lovely_ young man, and any girl would be lucky to have him, but Vegeta! Now there's a catch!'

Trunks was sitting at the kitchen table and he blushed. 'I'm not sure I want to hear this,' he said.

Bulma smiled, embarrassed herself by her what her mother was saying, but she seemed unable to speak to cut her off.

'Oh, fancy me walking in on you and Vegeta like that! So sorry Bulma dear! And I know how young people are these days, but do you think he'll pop the question to you soon?'

Trunks laughed. 'I wouldn't hold your breath Grandmother.'

'Well, I expect you're hungry. Would you like me to make you breakfast?'

Bulma tried to talk but only a muffled moan came out.

'I said, do you want breakfast or not? It'll be getting cold by now up on Korin's Tower.'

Bulma finally made it more or less to the surface of consciousness. Vegeta was glaring at her from the doorway. She was in her underwear and t-shirt, tangled in the sheet.

She got up groggily and went to grab some clean clothes, trying to shake herself alert. The half memory, half dream of her mother in the kitchen clung to her, it's giddy happiness all out of place with the scene around her. It felt like they'd just been there – her mother and her son. The overhead electric light and the cramped, untidy, buried capsule house were a far scream from the sunny spotless kitchen. _Trunks! Where are you?_

She held her clothes to her and skipped across into the bathroom for a shower, and was taken back when Vegeta followed her.

'What, are you going to stand there and watch?'

Vegeta looked pissed off, but at these words he crossed his arms and smirked lecherously at her.

'If you insist,' he said.

Bulma looked back at him as if he'd lost his mind, and then realised that it was she who'd lost hers. Yesterday returned to her with all its horrors, and the last of the giddy dream faded away.

'I don't! Turn your back please.'

She showered fast, remembering the Kai's choice, all the work still left to do on the machine, and then finally Vegeta's kiss. Had that been what brought that dream on? Or was it the way he'd held her until she slept? Strangely sweet bookends to such an awful day.

She washed the home-made soap off the front of her and felt her nipples harden at the provocation. She bit her lip, halfway amused and halfway shamed – she was impossibly horny these last two days. Was there something wrong with her that she should be feeling freaky in the midst of all this danger and toil? Talk about terrible timing! She hoped that the animal on the other side of the shower curtain couldn't sense it somehow, and then realised that this was precisely the wrong thought at the wrong time. Her imagination provided her with an illustration of one way the animal might react.

'Nmm!'

'Everything all right in there?' said Vegeta, his voice soft and gravely, and surprisingly close.

'Yes. Why? Do you think the Kai might've joined me in here?'

'Huh,' he said, having no comeback. 'Stop dithering in there will you. Other people would also like to clean themselves.'

'I'm being quick if you haven't noticed!'

'Could have fooled me Woman, standing around daydreaming just to feel the water on your skin.'

Bulma blushed and turned the water off angrily. That was a lucky guess, surely? Still, there was something disturbingly too knowing about his jibe.

'Towel please!'

She got out with the towel around her, then turned her back while he stripped and got in the shower over the tub, although she got a reasonably good view of his backside anyway in the bathroom cabinet mirror when he stepped in. She was sniggering over getting that one for free when she realised that he'd probably gotten the same eyeful of her when she'd stepped in the shower. She paused in the act of drying herself to try and check out her own backside in the mirror, vanity getting the better of her. What she saw was fairly heartening. _Not bad!_ she thought to herself, and turned to check out the rest of her assets. It seemed like despite the stress of the situation, all these meals from Vegeta, Oolong and Korin were feeding her up after all. Her curves had filled out a little. Her cheeks had lost their slight hollowness. Her breasts were fuller, and she could be imagining it, but perkier too. Even her wrinkles seemed to be softer this morning.

She stifled a groan at the irony that she seemed to be getting foxier just before the only man she was interested in was about to step out of her life, or perhaps if she was unlucky, lost her life.

 _It's probably not real anyway,_ she told herself. _Probably stress bringing on body dysmorphia - I think I'm hotter than I really am!_

* * *

Korin made then congee for breakfast. It was good, as good as the congee her mother used to make, and it reminded her of her dream this morning – her mother offering to cook breakfast, and Trunks sitting at the table, as at home as if he grew up there, although he hadn't sat in that kitchen with her mother since she'd been bouncing him on her knee in his diaper. Bulma suddenly lost her appetite. Her hand stopped halfway to her face, the spoon shaking a little. The Kai was coming. The Kai was hell bent on preventing her reaching Trunks ever again.

Korin and Vegeta had stopped their conversation and were both looking at her. Korin looked worried, but so did Vegeta, and that scared her.

She put down her bowl.

'I'm done. Let's go.'


	23. Sympathy for the Devil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I'm down to a four chapter buffer between here and the chapter I'm currently still writing. Given that it takes me about three days to find the time to write a chapter I might have to slow down posting to one every two days...we'll see.

The rest of the day was a blur of work. Bulma would not let herself think of anything else, cutting off stray thoughts and turning all her focus to the machine. She got a lot done, and barely stopped to eat lunch. Vegeta became like a shadow – something that was there, but required no thought. He never talked much anyway, but now he was silent, his presence fading away into the background. At some point though she flipped up the welding mask to find that he wasn't there. Instead Sixteen stood sentinel-like behind her.

'Where…?' she started, feeling betrayed.

'He does not think the Kai will come today. He believes that the Kai will keep the two day bargain, so he trusted me to look after you while he went out.'

Bulma looked at Sixteen, not understanding how she could have missed this conversation, nor the changing of the guard.

'Where is he?'

'I do not know.'

Bulma pushed down the hurt and turned back to her work. She should know better by now than to be hurt by the things Vegeta did. Besides, nothing mattered more right now than the things in front of her.

He was back in time to take her to Korin's for dinner though. She insisted that they not stay, but take the food back to the hanger, and for a while she worked in between picking at the food when Vegeta prodded her to eat. It was easier to take a mouthful and eat it mechanically without thinking about it than to actually pay attention to it the way she felt right now. Wires, circuits, diodes, these small puzzles calmed her.

'EAT!' snapped Vegeta for perhaps the dozenth time. She looked at him, distracted, and he snatched the micro solderer out of her hand, turned her in her chair and put her fork in her hand instead. Then he pushed the plate of lukewarm fried noodles at her.

'I'm not hungry.'

'You barely touched breakfast or lunch. You will eat dinner, and you WILL sleep tonight, or what are you going to be like tomorrow, or the day after, or the day after that?'

'That's if there is a day after tomorrow.'

'If you believe there won't be, why are you even bothering to work on this thing?'

Bulma shrugged, prodding the noodles. 'If he doesn't get hold of me tomorrow, he'll just keep trying, right?'

'And I'll still be here, waiting to stop him!' His voice hoarse with intensity and aggression. Bulma found this strangely comforting.

She started putting food in her mouth, although she still didn't feel like she could eat. With a deep breath through the nose, and keeping her eyes on Vegeta she managed to swallow.

'Does the Supreme Kai have any other talents I should know about?' she asked, stalling while she loaded another forkful.

'He's a lot stronger than a human obviously, but no match for me. He can fire Chi blasts. Nothing that you haven't seen before.'

'You'd think I'd be used to being threatened by beings of superior power by now.'

'I don't think I've ever known you to be so scared before.'

Bulma flashed him a look, annoyed. Not only did she resent the implication that she was being cowardly, but she didn't like being compared to a version of herself she didn't even know. Based on the photos she'd seen, his Bulma led a charmed life. 'I'm not scared for me. I'm scared I'll never get Trunks back!'

Vegeta sat back and considered this. Bulma continued to eat. 'Of course you are,' he said.

'That Supreme Kai does terrify me in some ways though,' she admitted.

'How so?'

'He's so pleasant, so…reasonable. He seems so good. I want to trust him.'

'That's because he _is_ good. He's the ruler of the Eastern universe after all, chosen for his wisdom and purity. How is that frightening?'

'I'm scared that if he turns up again and says "Walk with me into the Next World" that I'll just do it, and never see Trunks ever again.'

'Well don't worry, because he'll never get the chance to utter the words.'

She managed to eat half her plate and then she continued working. Vegeta helped her installing jets on the frame and wiring them in. It was a novel experience working with Vegeta. She suspected that it was for him also.

'Gods dammit!' he yelped at one point, clutching his hand.

'Don't touch the weld!' she exclaimed. 'It's still hot!'

'Obviously Woman! Of all the boneheaded statements!'

'Give it here,' she said, grabbing his hand. His finger had a red patch on it, enough to blister. 'You'll live,' she said as he sucked his finger. 'Come run it under the tap.'

She took him back to the medi lab and directed him to run it under the cold tap for a while. 'It still stings,' he grumbled when he took it out from under the water. 'If I hadn't been keeping my power level so low it wouldn't have injured me at all. I've no idea how you survive being so weak. Every bump and scrape is potentially life threatening.'

'We mere humans survive somehow,' she said sarcastically. 'How can you warrior types take a wild beating, get smashed through mountain tops, but still complain at a burnt finger?'

'I have a high tolerance to pain. Doesn't mean I don't feel it though. How can you technical genius types build a time machine but still make mistakes when they're screwing three wires into a power source?' he said, referring to an earlier snafu of hers.

'Touche,' she said, laughing.

Vegeta grinned evilly. He looked tired. Bulma guiltily realised she hadn't considered how Vegeta had been faring these last few days. The threat of attack must be wearing on him. It must be tiring to be alert at all times. How was he sleeping? _Was_ he sleeping?

She pulled the fingerless leather glove off and rubbed some anaesthetic, antiseptic burn cream on the burn, then wrapped it with a small dressing. It felt good to be able to do something for him for a change, and surprisingly he was unresisting. When she looked up from her task his head was nodding; he was more than half asleep.

'I need to get you to bed,' she said.

Vegeta looked surprised, but then shook his head, dislodging whatever thought had got stuck there. 'That's not like you to want to sleep before your eyes are already at half-mast.'

'You're tired.'

'I'm okay. You can keep going.'

Bulma laughed at the role reversal. 'How are you supposed to protect me properly if you're shattered?'

Vegeta's brows lowered into a scowl. 'All right, point taken.'

* * *

In the bedroom the modesty that had been missing the night before during her crisis had returned. Bulma fished something out of the living room to act as a better night light than the bedside lamp with a t-shirt draped over it – a dragon radar of all things, kept for nostalgia's sake. She hung it on the head board, it's screen empty except for the green glowing LED grid. They changed by this light, which made it difficult, as Bulma couldn't find her old sweatpants, so she stripped to her panties and put on the baggy t-shirt she sometimes used as a nightdress. This whole time she kept her back steadfastly turned to Vegeta, and slid under the covers without even looking at him. She wondered if he'd sleep on the trundle tonight – after what he'd said to Sixteen and the way he'd left her alone with him this afternoon he probably didn't think it necessary to sleep in the bed with her. The thought both relieved and disappointed her.

In fact he stood there between the beds for a while, not moving, long enough to make her roll back and peek at him. He looked from the trundle bed to her and froze.

 _Pick my bed, pick mine!_ she wanted to say, but didn't. Maybe it showed on her face though because Vegeta huffed in resignation and climbed in her bed. He lay on his back, arms tucked in like he was lying in his casket. Bulma did the same, closed her eyes and…didn't sleep.

Her thoughts were like wild animals, chasing themselves around in her head. Without the utter exhaustion of yesterday to carry her off there was too much to think on and worry about. What was the afterlife like? Would Trunks die in the timeline they sent him to if she didn't make it to him, or was he merely stuck? Would he live a long and happy life anyway, just stuck in the past? Or was this a negative outcome universe, and right now some other Bulma had happily got her son home a few minutes after sending him off? Or would he suffer terribly, knowing that he had failed before he died?

Vegeta appeared to fall asleep quickly, but Bulma couldn't. Her eyes wouldn't even stay shut. She found herself looking around the room lit by the dim green glow. There was just enough light to see Vegeta's face; the high regal forehead, the heavy brow ridges, the permanent frown, the strangely cute nose. He'd held her last night. She wished that he had again tonight. The thought made her ache, in more ways than one. She touched her lips, remembering that mistaken kiss. She needed him right now, and yet he far away in slumber, and there she would let him stay.

She must have fallen asleep at some point though.

She dreamt that Vegeta lay on the ground, surrounded by autumn leaves. It was cold, and a piercing wind whipped the leaves around him, over his limbs, over his face, ruffling his hair. She walked closer, and each step filled her with more alarm and dread. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong! She didn't want to get closer, to see what she was going to see, but she had to make sure, because maybe it wasn't true…

His face was the colour of bone. His lips were waxen. His chest was still.

She opened her mouth to cry out but no sound came out. She couldn't breathe at all. She'd die here too – her insides ripped in half by a monstrous grief.

A soft voice spoke behind her. She turned and saw the Supreme Kai looking at her sadly.

'I couldn't let you have them both Bulma. I'm sorry.'

She tried to scream.

She jolted awake, disorientated and still in the grip of choking sadness.

'For Kami's sake Woman! You nearly gave me a heart attack.'

She looked at Vegeta's wild eyes, but the horror wouldn't go away.

'You were…you were…you…' She lost out to the sobs that erupted. She wanted to throw her arms around him and cry her sadness out to him, but she had no right. She was hurting so bad though…She reached out a hand towards him. Vegeta sat up, looking alarmed.

'What is it?' He picked up her hand, turning it over as if the answer lay in her palm.

Bulma knew she was being ridiculous then, but she was unable to stop the crying or the hurting. She turned her face into her pillow and gave herself over to weeping that shook her whole body. She expected he would get angry with her soon, but instead he squeezed her hand.

'Woman, what is it?' he asked, in the tones of someone who has resigned themselves to an arduous task.

'You were dead!' she cried, muffled in her pillow. As she said the words she almost laughed amongst the sobs. It was truly a pathetic thing to be so upset by a dream like that, she told herself, but the pain went on and on.

'I'm not going to die. I doubt there's much in this universe that could kill me.'

'I know! It's just a dream.' She looked up from the pillow, feeling the pain and horror on her face, hearing it in her voice. 'But you've _already_ died! You died, and the androids left so little of you I had nothing to bury!'

Vegeta looked disturbed by that. Bulma collapsed back onto the pillow, trying to pack all that feeling away again. She gripped his fingers tightly, not willing to give up this little bit of comfort. She took some deep breaths and managed to tone the crying down to a miserable sniffle. Where was her Vegeta now? What was it like for him to be dead and gone?

She sniffed and asked: 'You were dead for a while on Namek before we brought you back. What was it like?'

'Actually I've been dead twice.'

'And?'

'The first time, on Namek, there was a whole lot of pain, and it lasted for so long, much longer than I thought I could ever endure before I fell into darkness.'

'And the Next World? The Eternal Garden?'

'I didn't get past King Yamma's waiting room the first time.'

'What about the second time?'

'I sacrificed myself fighting the monster Buu. It was just an instant of blinding pain. That time I got beyond the waiting room, but I never got to see the Eternal Garden. I've heard it's nice enough, like a health spa where everyone is stoned out of their heads on happiness.'

'You mean you went down Snake Way like Goku and the others?'

He snorted. 'The soul chooses it's place in the Next World. I went to Hell to think on my sins in solitude.'

Bulma sat up to look at him, shocked. 'What? But you're a good man now! I thought you'd changed!'

Vegeta chuckled grimly at the words. 'That's funny. That's what you said last time.'

Bulma had no memory of this, so assumed he must mean another Bulma had said the words. 'Did I bring you back with the dragonballs?'

'No. You were inconveniently dead soon after, though I doubt that you would have brought me back after what I did the day I died. Goku dragged me back out of Hell because he had need of me to fix the mess I'd left. Apparently I did a good job because afterwards the Kais allowed me to go on living again. We managed to reverse all the damage and death that was done by our enemy Buu…and myself.'

'Does that mean that if you died now you wouldn't go to the Eternal Garden?' She thought worried her. She didn't like to think of him alone in Hell.

Vegeta shrugged. 'There was a time that I thought it a possibility. However, I'm not sure I've got many brownie points left on my Eternal Garden entrance scorecard after years of being chased by the Kaioshin.'

'All right then,' said Bulma sternly. 'I forbid you to die until your soul is eligible for eternal peace!'

Vegeta laughed. 'Don't hold your breath.'

Bulma lay down again, upset. 'Is that where you are now? My Vegeta I mean? In Hell?'

'Undoubtedly.'

Tears were threatening to overwhelm her again. She pulled his hand to her face, pressing the rough knuckles to her cheek.

'Don't be too sad,' he said. 'It's no more than he deserves.'

'If I die, I'm going to drag you out of Hell!' she said thickly.

'Good luck with that.' he said. 'Go to sleep now. Tonight isn't the night for thinking of such things.'

She closed her eyes and concentrated on her parents having a great time at the health spa. It couldn't really blot out the ache she was feeling in her chest though.

 _How can my angel be damned to Hell?_ she thought. _It's not fair! I'd let all the untamed, bad Vegetas run amok in the Eternal Garden, and screw the Kai and anyone else who had a problem with bad tempered, impudent, prideful, aggressive princes roughing up the joint._

She continued wandering down dark paths in her head until she could no longer stand it and opened her eyes to watch his sleeping face. He wasn't asleep though. He was staring back at her across the pillow. He looked troubled. The pain in her chest resolved into an aching hole that hungrily demanded to be filled by the man next to her.

He closed his eyes, but then opened them again a few seconds later as if he'd lost some internal battle. Bulma felt her blood stirring, her cheeks warm, her lips reddening.

His finger twitched against her cheek. It was such a tiny gesture, more of an impulse that was not quite suppressed. She wasn't even sure if it was a conscious movement or not. But he didn't pull away and he didn't look away. Moving ever so slowly, ready to be rejected at any second, she moved his knuckles from her cheek to her lips. Still he just stared. He looked scared in fact. This just made her heart twist harder for him.

Next she kissed his knuckles. Vegeta's eyes went wider. She shifted her grip on his hand, and kissed the back of it. Vegeta shuffled closer, pulling their hands to himself, kissing her fingers. Just that tiny affection was enough to make Bulma's heart leap like a spring lamb.

'Now go to sleep,' he said.

The softness of his voice made her melt. She wasn't going to obey him though, not yet. She stroked his palm with her thumb, and he squeezed back, trailing his fingers across her wrist, and each small movement was like tickling flames of passion. Vegeta's breathing quickened. She pushed her hand until it rested on his naked chest and felt his strong heart beating hard and fast.

'Bulma!' he growled, warningly.

'What?'

He still stared at her, mouth open and a look of hopelessness on his face. She leaned in a little further. Their heads rested on the same pillow now; she could feel his breath on her face, just a few inches away.

'Ah, fuck it,' he said, already leaning in to her kiss.

This kiss was even more inflaming than the one at the hoverjet factory. Bulma practically froze as the sensation threatened to overwhelm her. They moved slowly, as each movement was so spine-tinglingly pleasurable that she felt she would erupt into flame if it happened too fast. The kiss was followed by another and another. His lips were familiar but so missed and for so long that it was like their first kiss all over again. She kissed him with an open mouth, running her tongue along the inside of his lip, between is teeth, grazing his tongue. He moaned and kissed her back, hot and wet, the desire pouring through her like molten lava. He put his arm around her, squeezing her in against him. She put her hand to his face, looking for those sensations she had missed – the softness of his lower lip, the prickle of his stubble under her palm, his hair between her fingers.

Slowly, slowly, relishing each detail she touched him – his neck, his back, his arms, his chest, and she thrilled at the sensations of him exploring her in return. She felt like a cup that had been empty and hollow for years, and now she was full to the brim, almost spilling over with passion, and it was good, so, so good.

She pulled herself even closer to him, so they were chest to chest. Vegeta's hand found it's way under her t-shirt, stroking up her back, making it ride up. Bulma wondered dimly where they were going with this, but didn't care. She just didn't want it to stop. How could she have gone so long without kissing a man? Without wrapping herself against some hard body?

_Because no man was like this man!_

She couldn't remember a time that mere kisses and strokes had felt so pleasurable. Maybe her first ever kiss? Maybe the first times with Vegeta all those years ago. Back then a lot of the thrill came from knowing she was doing something dangerous, kissing someone she'd be best advised not to get involved with, and the thrill of victory at having seduced the Prince. In some ways this was no different, but it _was_ different.

He left her mouth and kissed her neck, breathing in her scent deeply, rubbing his face against her skin. Bulma's hair was standing on end – every inch of her skin was sensitive and alive and his mouth and stubble on her neck made her gasp.

Gently he rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him. The sheets were between them but she could clearly feel his hard erection against her belly through all the layers, and she felt a flutter of nervousness. She hadn't had sex in ten years. Was it possible to get out of practice?

Vegeta ran one hand up her side and slid it over her breast, making her jump with a new burst of joy, and sit up, suddenly astride him. Vegeta gave a 'ha!' of amusement and arched his hips, pushing himself against her.

 _She who dares wins!_ Bulma told herself sternly, and then with hands trembling with desire she pulled the tangled sheets out of the way, and pulled her t-shirt off over her head. Vegeta's face was gratifyingly full of appreciation. He ran both hands over her breasts, cupped them, rolled his thumbs over her nipples. Bulma bit her lip to stop herself from moaning loudly, all the while conscious of the motion of their hips.

When he pulled her down to him though, and buried his face in her breasts she had to laugh from sheer ticklishness as his hair and stubble brushed her nakedness. Then he licked a nipple, making her squeak involuntarily, but he had an arm round her, holding her down as he nuzzled about, licking and suckling. She was trapped as he freed his other arm, ran his hand down her back and down her panties. When he touched the hot slipperiness there she squirmed again and Vegeta groaned, rubbing himself against her harder.

 _Slowness be damned!_ she thought, after a minute or so of this, and struggled to get up off of him. She'd have him right now; she couldn't wait any longer. He felt her pushing away from him and let her go.

'What's wrong? Have you come to your senses Woman?' he asked, his voice husky and worried.

'Not at all,' she said, rolling off him. She sat on the bed and reached down to pull off her underwear. Vegeta suddenly reached out and caught her hand, stopping her. She looked at his face, afraid he was about to reject her. His expression was intense, his eyes wide and infinitely dark in the dim light. He was breathing hard and his hand on hers trembled like she was.

'We're fools for doing this,' he said. Bulma noted that he was only stating that they shouldn't be doing it, not that they should stop. It was the move of someone who knew what they were doing was wrong, but didn't have the will to say no. He was giving her the chance to stop it. But she certainly wasn't going to stop anything.

'Then we're fools,' she told him.

Vegeta continued to stare at her for another two heartbeats, and then he grasped her underwear and pulled them from her himself with a snarl. Then he shucked his own. Bulma got only a glance of his naked torso before he covered her with his own body. They kissed again, deeply, and Bulma wrapped her legs around him, grasping one of his buttocks in her hand, desperate to have him closer still, impossibly close. She pressed her hips up into him, feeling him slide home with a drawn out thrill of gratification so exquisite that she almost climaxed right then. Vegeta broke the kiss to gasp an expletive and then they were on their way, moving with a rhythm that dissolved the edges of Bulma, making her lose all sense of anything outside their two bodies coming together. The hole in her heart ate it up, gorging on Vegeta, but still not getting enough – it's ache was endless, it's need was bottomless. When she came she cried out, convulsing with pleasure, but with sobs as well. She was fused to him through the heart as much as her body. She felt him let go, his exclamation muffled by the crook of her neck, his seed rushing into her, shuddering against her and inside her. She realised that her cheeks were wet with tears, and hurriedly wiped them away before he could see them.

Oh, she could see she was going to pay a fortune in heartache for this later.

Vegeta lifted his head and kissed her again, then rested his forehead against hers.

'Bloody - fucking - hell,' he panted.

Bulma was unsure where he was expressing appreciation or dismay; she tried to brush it off as a joke. 'That bad, huh?'

Vegeta laughed, the movement setting off aftershocks of sensation between her legs. 'Yes, that bad. Woman, you'll be the death of me.'

He rolled off her to one side.

 _Don't leave_ , she prayed silently. _Don't leave me alone_ now _!_

* * *

Vegeta rolled off her, keeping one arm around her.

Crap.

He'd really bollocksed this up now.

Thankfully she said nothing, because he was quite caught up in the noise in his head. His blood was still singing, and the euphoria that had overtaken him as she'd drawn him in still clouded his brain, but already he felt it slipping away, leaving not happiness and contentment but unease and shame.

He'd put up such a feeble resistance to her temptation he might as well have jumped in boots first. He knew, he _knew_ that he shouldn't have let it happen, but right at the critical moment he couldn't keep the reasons why in his head. He'd just completely given in to her.

The woman rolled into his side and draped an arm across his chest, like it was just any other night in bed with his mate. Well, here was one reason why he shouldn't have. Try passing this act off as leaving a timeline no less damaged than when he'd arrived.

The first sex in fifteen years, and it was great. But it wasn't how it was supposed to happen. This was not the homecoming he had planned, the grateful return to the life he once had, his own Bulma slipping out of her favourite silk nightgown and teasing him about gracing her bed with his carnality and massive ego.

He'd lived like a monk since the morning he'd argued with her and gone back in time to fight Cell – well, like a warrior monk. It was a long, long time to go without her, but he was not unused to long periods of abstinence. Between training in space and the hyperbolic time chamber he'd gone years without his Woman before. And before he'd met her he had lived that way all his life. He'd been Frieza's since he was a boy, and that asexual monster was only interested in power and money. Love, even lust was not understood, accepted or tolerated at Frieza's court. When Vegeta had clapped eyes on Bulma the first time he barely understood lust and desire. It took him a decade longer before he could put a finger on love. As he grew up his only real role models for relationships were Nappa and Radditz, and neither could be said to actually have had a relationship. Nappa's appetites were disgusting - a man who drew the line at almost no species, and who made it a point to rape at least one poor creature on each planet they visited, if he could get away with it. 'Waste not, want not,' was Nappa's motto, making time to defile a city's inhabitant before destroying them along with the rest. Radditz preferred the whorehouses that sprung up near refuelling stations on a few of Frieza's less policed planets. They were illegal, and not frequently encountered. Radditz would constantly be looking for any excuse that would bring them in range of one of these red light areas.

When Vegeta was fifteen he'd gone with him, after much teasing from Radditz and Nappa. The female he'd found himself with had not particularly stirred him, except in a very coarse way. Her insincere seduction confused him, and it was obvious she wanted to be there even less than he did. A couple of years later he'd given it another shot, but his impression was unchanged. They were the only sexual experiences of his youth (except for that _other_ time, but he didn't even want to think of that), and he hadn't enjoyed them much. He'd written off sex as an elaborate and demeaning method of self-gratification. The idea that it could be a reciprocal or positive experience hadn't even occurred until he'd been re-educated by his Woman.

She'd given him everything he realised now. She'd given him a home when he had no where else to go; trusted him, with no good reason, not to kill or break her family and house; fed, clothed, tolerated him, enjoyed his company even, when no-one had ever really done that before; poured the substantial resources of her and her family's intellect, wealth and technology into his training; shown faith in him, also without good reason; given him two children, who turned out to be greater treasure than he'd ever imagined possible; and finally, loved him even though it was years before he was able to love her back. She'd given him herself. Eros, sex, desire - for him they all centred on her alone. Not once in the decades since she'd opened his eyes to it all had he come across a female who turned his head half as much as she. That was, until he'd travelled in time and met the other Bulmas.

He'd let her down. If they were successful he'd be home in two weeks; could he not have hung on two more weeks? Would his mate be able to tell that he had fallen down on his way home? The guilt settled on him like the gravity chamber set to maximum. The arm of this other Bulma across his chest felt like it weighed a ton, making it difficult to breath. Her body was hot against his, smouldering like his guilt.

 _You broke your own rules!_ he yelled silently inside his head. _Keep away from the Bulmas! Now look what has happened!_

Hoping she was now asleep he tried to rise without waking her. Maybe he could sleep on the small bed, somewhere were her touch didn't reinforce his shame. Maybe he'd actually be able to get to sleep. No such luck though. Her arm tightened around him.

'Where are you going?' The note of panic in her voice was evident. He made the mistake of looking her in the face and saw the hurt and the fear there. It was a new blow of pain to the heart. She needed him, she wanted him. Dammit!

'Nowhere. I'm not going anywhere tonight,' he said. What did it matter? The worse had already happened, and he probably wasn't going to sleep tonight anyway with the way he felt. He lay back down. Within a few minutes she was snoring gently.

A few minutes after that she jumped in her sleep and kicked him in the ankle.

'King Cold's balls, here we go.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors Note: I shall be very disappointed if I don't get any reviews on this chapter ;)


	24. The Strange Fellows

Bra came running at him, eight years old and pigtails flying. She looked upset.

'What is it girl?' he asked, picking her up.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and cried out 'Daddy, Daddy! You said you would come home to us!'

'But I am home now.'

'No, you're not! And you promised you'd come back!'

Vegeta pulled her from around his neck holding her out so he could see her face. Her cheeks were covered in wet tears and she glared at him, hurt and angry. Then he remembered - of course he wasn't home yet, they were still working on the time machine.

'I'm on my way home right now. I'm almost there!'

'No!' yelled Bra. 'You're not! You said you'd come back and you're NOT!' She began hitting him with her childish fists, stronger than a full human child's, batting his face, not hard enough to hurt him, but it shocked him.

'Bra! Stop it! I'm your father!'

'No! You're a liar! You're a cheat!'

She punched him full in the nose.

Vegeta jolted awake. The blasted Woman had hit him in the face again! He looked at the bedside clock. It was ten o'clock already, and they had overslept horrendously.

'Thank Kami this awful night can end at last,' he breathed, getting up from the bed. He didn't even want to think about the dream he'd just woken from, so he hurried away from it, flipped on the light, hunted out some pants. When he turned around his heart leapt into his throat at the sight of Bulma on the bed, arms above her head, blue hair fanned of the pillow, miles of creamy skin on display and breasts peek-a-booing from under the sheets. The full extent of last night's misdeeds hit him in all its face-reddening, ball-tightening glory. Gods damn his soul and the woman's too!

He went into her wardrobe and gathered some random clothes of hers together and tossed them at her nakedness. Some of them hit her in the face so that she woke up sputtering.

* * *

'What! What? What was that for?' she said, getting her thoughts in order. Vegeta was scowling at her, half dressed already.

'Get up, it's after ten already.'

So last night obviously hadn't sweetened Vegeta at all. Well, she couldn't have expected otherwise. Still, it didn't mean he hadn't had fun.

'And wipe that foolish grin off your face,' he added. 'Last night was a mistake. It won't happen again.' He turned his back on her.

Her grin went away all right. Ouch! A mistake? That's what he'd said after the kiss at the factory too. It hadn't felt like a mistake to her. And he had enjoyed last night at the time, hadn't he? Why was he upset now?

She started getting dressed. What had he passed her? A pair of worn out shorts and a dress. Useless!

'Well, you may be determined to be unhappy about what happened, but you won't stop me.' This was kind of a lie – he'd already made her feel bad.

'Then you're an idiot.'

'So cheerful today,' she rejoined. Vegeta didn't react, so she continued. 'Feeling guilty about it are you?'

'Just hurry up, will you!' he said, but his head dropped. Bingo! He _was_ feeling guilty. This was no good.

'I wouldn't bother feeling bad if I was you. I mean, we're the same person, your Bulma and I. I'm not sure you could technically call it cheating,' she said, blushing even as she said it. Put like that, even to her it sounded shameful. Not _technically_ cheating?

He turned and glared at her as she was in the middle of buttoning the shorts. 'Your opinion is not required,' he hissed.

This made her angry. 'You're being ridiculous! Why go beating yourself up, martyr?'

'Ridiculous? If you were in her position what would you feel about it? Would you be fine with what happened last night?'

He had a point she admitted to herself. Perhaps she was just trying to rationalise their sins away. Still, she felt he had no right to the moral high ground. 'Oh don't be so high and righteous! If I understand your plan correctly, it involves creating a universe specifically so that you can replace another Vegeta in another Bulma's bed. How is that any better? Are you even going to tell her you're not the same man she sent away?'

When he rounded on her this time she knew she'd gone too far – his eyes were wide with rage and a flush was rising from his collar. 'SHUT THE HELL UP WOMAN!' His expression made her back across the bed, clutching the dress to her.

'Well if it was going to bother you so much no-one was forcing you to have sex with me!'

He roared in ferocious anger, his clenched fists shaking before he finally regained the power of speech. 'I KNOW! Now just shut up, and finish getting dressed!'

'What's the big fucking hurry? What about a fucking shower, huh?'

'Idiot woman! It's ten o'clock, the Kai could be here any time, and we have a visitor waiting for us in the garden!'

Bulma gave a shrill scream and then covered her mouth with her hand. This was D-day, how could she have forgotten? The day the Kai would come to find out her decision.

'He's here in the garden?'

'No. Someone else. But he could be here any time. It was about midday when he visited us two days ago.'

Screw the shower. Bulma threw the dress on – a short purple one that the khaki shorts peeked out the bottom of. Well, she was well past caring what fashion travesties befell her these days, though a small part of herself still wailed at the outfit. She followed Vegeta through the house and up the stairs, practically stepping on his heels in her anxiety not to be parted from her protector. The only thing that kept her from clinging to his arm was his towering anger at her right now.

Out in the garden the day was cool and a fine misty rain was falling.

Korin was standing next to his hoverbike, looking as sad and dejected as only a wet cat can.

'Korin, what are you doing here?' she asked.

'Oh, there's the door,' said Korin. 'Your place is rather hard to find if you don't know what you're looking for.'

'Why have you come?' asked Vegeta bluntly.

'I got worried when you two didn't turn up this morning.'

'You flew for an hour because we were late for breakfast?' said Bulma, frowning at Korin.

'Well that's not all. Baba was over last night, and she had some interesting things to tell me. Things that had me worried even before you were no-shows.'

''And?' said Vegeta, crossing his arms.

'She's pretty well connected with the Next World. It seems as if someone upstairs has not only remembered that we exist down here, but all of heaven's scrutiny is bearing down upon the Earth. More specifically, on you two! Now what the Hell have you gotten yourself into?'

Bulma flushed with shame. All heaven's scrutiny made their disagreement with the Kai seem that much more serious. A bizarre thought caught her off guard – the Supreme guardians of the universe had watched her and Vegeta in bed last night, as well as their argument this morning.

Vegeta's face closed like a fist. 'Keep out of it cat. The Kai are wrong on this one.'

'Going up against the universe now I see? Bloody Hell! You convinced me I could trust you Vegeta, and now this. What have you dragged our Bulma into?'

'I got myself into this one Korin, don't worry,' she said. 'Losing Trunks, stranding Vegeta, angering the Kai, it's all on me.'

Korrin looked perplexed at that. It seemed he was willing to blame Vegeta, but not her. He looked back and forth between the two and then shook his head.

'I'm surprised your parents didn't tell you this one was trouble,' Korin said to Bulma. 'I brought some stuff for breakfast, so if we get out of the rain you can tell me all about it while we eat.'

Korin nearly had a conniption at the state of the kitchen, but Bulma hurried to help him clean it up, wash mugs and dishes and throw out the things in the fridge that had grown legs. Vegeta sketched in the role of the Time Patrol and the Kai's suppression of time travel, as well as heaping plenty of blame onto the Kai for their decision to merge the Planet of the Kai into a multiverse nexus. Bulma felt they didn't deserve _all_ the criticism, but she kept her mouth shut. Korin wasn't impressed as it was.

'I've been helping you defy the will of the Supreme Kais, a benevolent force who I would never hope to meet in all of eternity, who I would only seek to serve! How do you think that makes me feel?'

'I'm sorry Korin. We shouldn't have involved you,' said Bulma, feeling terrible now.

'Only thing I can't figure out is how the Kai could be so heartless as to not even let you try getting your boy back?'

'These types living far and above the rest of us, can't see the trees for the forest,' said Vegeta.

Korin sighed. 'I don't know…Let's put this kettle on and I'll see if I'm still partial to helping you afterwards.'

They drank tea and ate the cold toasted sandwiches that Korin had brought for breakfast. Afterwards they took Korin into the lab to show him the machine and introduce him to Sixteen, or at least Bulma did. Vegeta was merely a bystander for this, seeming remote and distracted. Korin and Sixteen seemed to get on well.

'I can't believe you're one of Dr Geros,' he said to Sixteen at one point. 'Bulma, I'm surprised you haven't taken that Red Ribbon Army logo off him yet.'

They all agreed that this should be done, and Bulma buffed the painted logo off, right then and there. When she was done she caught a glimpse of the clock on the wall and felt her stomach clench with fear. It was eleven twenty.

'Do you think he'll be on time?' she said quietly to Vegeta.

'Perhaps,' he replied, and then he put a hand on her shoulder. She knew it was just to be extra ready in case the Kai showed up, but it made her feel much better in all manner of ways.

She began to have in inkling that she might not get much work done today. Korin wandered the lab and the hangar asking questions about this and that, and she followed with Vegeta in tow, nearly as distracted as he was now.

Bulma almost leapt out of her skin when a voice called out from the first lab, and it took a second for her to realise that it wasn't the Supreme Kai's voice. It was Eighteen's.

'Hello?' Is there anyone here?'

Bulma felt she couldn't deal with much more. She looked at Vegeta and whispered 'Make her go away!'

'I asked her to come,' he whispered back, annoyed.

Bulma couldn't cover her shock in time for Eighteen to walk in.

'Hey,' she said, sensing the hostility from Bulma. She crossed her arms and pouted. ' _He_ said it was okay,' she said, inclining her head towards Vegeta.

Sixteen smiled. 'It's good to see you Eighteen.'

'You too Sixteen. We've missed you in the new house.'

'Kami help me, I will not get used to chatting with androids,' said Korin. 'Are you sure she's safe Vegeta?'

'No, I'm not,' said Eighteen.

Vegeta laughed. 'The best are not.'

Bulma saw that Eighteen had cut her hair. She wondered if she'd been inspired by the picture Vegeta had shown her. She'd also ditched her trademark denim mini-dress and striped undershirt. She now wore something looked like a tennis outfit.

'Had a makeover Eighteen?' she asked her.

'I'm in disguise,' she said, drolly. 'If they don't recognise me when I walk up to them, I find that people will actually talk to me.'

'How is your brother?'

'Pissed off at you.'

Bulma shrugged off the shiver that went up her spine. She didn't have time to worry about an angry but underpowered android at this time.

'Vegeta asked me to come along if I felt like being helpful. Apparently you've got a deity hunting your ass.' She smiled. 'If it comes down to punching a God, I'm for that.'

'Ha!' laughed Vegeta.

Eighteen inspected the time machine, but appeared quite bored with it. She was much more interested in telling Sixteen what she and her brother had been up to – the people they had met and their first attempts at trading. Bulma and Vegeta stood back, letting the conversation carry itself. Bulma glanced at her watch frequently. It was nearly noon. Sweat prickled on her forehead. Vegeta squeezed her shoulder.

'You're not going anywhere unless I'm taking you, remember?'

Korin was fascinated by the androids, but nervous all the same.

'How did you reprogram them?' he said quietly to Bulma at one point.

'Reprogram them?' she repeated stupidly. She hadn't.

'Well yes, or whatever you call it, that's made them change their behaviour.'

Bulma made a decision then. She was going to let Seventeen and Eighteen have a real fresh chance at life. She was going to let Sixteen walk without any fear of suspicion. If people believed that they had been reprogrammed they may come to trust them easier.

'Well, Vegeta caught them and held them down, and I just opened them up and bob's your uncle! Rewrote their core directives.'

Korin nodded sagely.

'Very clever. Don't know why you didn't just destroy them though.'

Suddenly Vegeta looked up as if he could see someone through the deep layer of earth and rock above them. Bulma's heart skipped a beat.

'Is it him?'

'No,' said Vegeta. Then he chuckled with the mirth of someone watching another person face-plant in mud. 'We've got another visitor!'

Again the visitor's voice preceded them.

'Hello? Bulma? Don't tell me you got yourself killed by robots! Where are you?'

Oolong rounded the corner, bearing a plastic box and trembling visibly.

'Oh thank god, there you are!'

'Oolong! What are you doing here?'

'I felt pretty bad for leaving you in the lurch the other week. I was wondering how you were doing. Chai baked you a cake,' he said, holding up the ancient Tupperware.

'Oh really? That's sweet!' And terrible timing. But still sweet.

'Oh Pig, what a day you've arrived on,' said Vegeta, still obviously enjoying himself.

'Is that little pork chop here again?' said Eighteen, her attention finally caught. She stepped from around Sixteen and regarded Oolong with a predatory smile.

'Oh god, not you!' squealed Oolong dropping the cake. Vegeta caught it before it made it even halfway to the ground, and was back at Bulma's side before a second had passed.

'Don't worry Oolong,' said Korin. 'They're harmless now. Bulma has reprogrammed the androids.'

'What?' said Eighteen. 'No she…'

'Yes, she reprogrammed you,' growled Vegeta, with a pointed look at Eighteen.

'Oh…' said Eighteen, frowning, catching up. 'Yes she did. How could I have forgotten?'

Everyone except Sixteen adjourned for lunch into the house. Bulma felt sorry for him, but he reminded her that he didn't eat anyway. As they filed up the stairs and back down into the house Vegeta held her hand instead of her shoulder, which Bulma found even more warming. Eighteen produced a gift that she had found – a bottle of scotch nearly as old as Bulma, but it had been in the bottle for twenty years. 'I found it in some mashed up mansion,' she explained. 'I don't know anything about whisky. Do you think it's any good?'

'There's only one way to find out.' said Bulma. 'I know I could use a bloody stiff drink right now.'

'Hear hear!' cheered Oolong.

Korin cooked again while Oolong found glasses and poured. The whisky was _damn_ good.

Bulma saw Oolong eyeing her and Vegeta's linked hands.

'Guess that answers that question,' he said. Neither Bulma or Vegeta corrected his assumption. 'Hey Vegeta, how does it feel being not dead?'

'Pretty good. I've been dead twice. Would you like to try it yourself?'

'No. No thank you! Bulma your boyfriend is a twisted, undead psychopath. But you're looking great by the way. It's criminal for a woman your age to look as young as you do! I'd swear you were getting younger, not older.'

'Thank you Oolong!'

The conversation flowed in jerks and stops, while Korin cooked. Bulma looked at her watch and found it was half past twelve. She should be feeling even more scared, but the odd company was making her feel more at ease. She found she was even grateful for Eighteen's presence. She had a very dry wit, and was verbally sparring with Oolong who, not surprisingly, didn't trust her yet.

At one o'clock Korin served a massive potato-topped venison pie with green vegetables. Bulma was onto her second scotch, which was also probably helping, although Vegeta had barely sipped his – probably a good thing, because he was their sober driver if the Kai turned up.

The pie was excellent, and Bulma wondered how Korin had created such a wonder from her kitchen's supplies. Even Eighteen ate some, saying that she hadn't smelt something worth eating in years, but this actually gave her an appetite.

Vegeta dropped Bulma's hand to eat, but sat close, his thigh resting against hers while they sat at the table. She reminded herself that it was just so he could evacuate her faster, but when she quickly glanced at him he was watching at her with a blank look on his face, like a man out of depth in his thoughts. Her insides flip-flopped.

After they had polished off the pie Oolong fetched the cake and poured himself a third scotch, beginning to enjoy himself despite the 'low-quality company,' as he put it, with a significant glance at Eighteen.

'You're the low quality Piglet,' snapped Eighteen. 'I wouldn't buy you if you were the last ham at the market!'

Bulma and Korin gasped, but then cracked up along with Vegeta. Oolong looked pissed off, but then he put down his glass and said 'Maybe you'd prefer some beefcake then?'

He took a deep breath and transformed into an oiled bodybuilder, blonde and blue eyed, rippling with muscles and wearing only a posing pouch.

Eighteen's eyes went wide. 'What the hell? How did he do that?'

Oolong was nodding and grinning with satisfaction. 'Like a bit of that?' he gasped out, struggling to hold onto the form. He lost a bit of control though, and the sculpted abs popped out into a round beer belly.

'Hey Pig, you forgot something!' said Eighteen, pointing at Oolong's backside, where his curly pig tail was still sticking out. Oolong strained to look behind him, and the tail stood out straight, quivering in the air. Bulma, Vegeta, Korin and Eighteen roared with laughter. Bulma laughed until tears came into her eyes. Oolong popped back to his usual form, looking indignant, but even he couldn't help laughing.

 _So this is who I hang out with these days?_ Bulma asked herself looking at all their laughing faces. An ancient cat, a middle aged pig, her resurrected boyfriend, a cyborg, and not to forget the android in the hangar. _Could be worse._

Oolong was serving the dense, flourless cake when Vegeta went rigid, rising to stand with a growl. He grabbed her arm and Bulma shut her eyes, ready for the jump through space. It didn't come though. She opened them again to see all the shocked faces at the table.

'Is it the Kai?' she asked.

'No,' he said, but didn't sound any more pleased about it. He kept his hand on her and his eyes on the door. Footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs in the silence. When the man they belonged to entered the room Bulma experienced another wave of dislocation.

'Trunks!' they all said in various tones of astonishment and horror. Eighteen leapt to her feet in panic, knocking over her chair.

Time Patrol Trunks crossed the room calmly, glancing at her. 'Oh, hey Eighteen,' he said, as if her presence was no more remarkable than anyone else's at the table. Eighteen backed away against the wall, scowling at him.

'What's _he_ doing here? And what's happened to him? He's _old!_ '

'Yes Trunks, why _are_ you here?' said Vegeta, staring the purple haired man down.

'I came to tell you what was happening on the Planet of the Kais.'

'You've come from there?' said Korin, his tone amazed. 'I take it you are not our Bulma's son Trunks then?'

Trunks smiled sadly. 'No, I'm not. I work for the Supreme Kai, or at least I did. I'm probably being fired as we speak.'

'Tell us what you've come to say then,' ordered Vegeta. He still hadn't relaxed. Trunks pulled up a chair.

'Mind if I have a piece?' he said, indicating the cake.

'Of course!' said Bulma, her voice sounding choked.

He cut himself a slice and began. 'All the Kai are watching you and Vegeta, but they won't make a move while Vegeta is guarding you this closely. The Eastern Kai is furious, and the others are blaming him for not taking the opportunity to collect you when he had it. But none of them are strong enough to stand up to Vegeta, and none of them are willing to try. So you've got a bit of time until they come up with another plan, but whatever you do, don't let your guard down.' This last bit he directed to Vegeta, who finally eased up and sat back down.

'Why have you been let out then?' he asked Trunks.

Trunks munched through a forkful of cake and pondered the question. 'I was supposed to attack you in an effort to distract you. But I refused.'

'You refused an order from the Supreme Kais?' said Korin, scandalised.

Trunks looked at him. 'Hey, you're Korin aren't you? The the martial arts master the grew the senzu beans?'

Korin narrowed his eyes at him. ' _Grows_ the senzu beans. Like father like son, is it? Defying the guardians of the universe seems to run in the family.'

'Well maybe you'd be less happy about following their instructions if it was your mother and father they wanted to snuff out!'

'But you just said that these two are not your actual parents.'

Trunks's eyes flitted over Bulma and lingered on Vegeta a moment. 'Close enough. I don't think it matters, I still don't want to get them killed.'

'And why start helping us now?' asked Vegeta.

Trunks looked at the blacked haired Saiyan with surprise. 'Father, I have _always_ helped you! First I tried to help you do the right thing. Then, because you're so stubborn, I tried to help you do the wrong thing with as little damage as possible. Now I find I'm forced to desperate measures just to keep you alive long enough to get out of here!'

'Hmm,' said Vegeta, but didn't argue. Trunks went back to eating his cake. Bulma watched him, noting how the years had etched his face, hardened him. So handsome…she couldn't wait to get her own Trunks back and see him grow up.

'Are you going to stick around here then and help us fight off the Kai?' she asked him.

'No, sorry,' he said, regretfully. 'I've got to go do some stuff for my Mom and me before the Kai try and shut me down completely.'

'I hope you don't get in too much trouble with the Kai because of us Trunks.'

He smiled, a sly-eyed, evil expression that was all Vegeta. 'Yeah well, we'll see who's more in trouble with who.' He finished the last forkful of cake and stood up. 'Well, I really can't hang around. Good cake by the way.'

The rest of them stared back at him, still stunned. He reached out a hand and took Bulma's, giving it a squeeze.

'Goodbye young Mom. I really hope you get him back.' Then as he looked into her face he frowned.

'What is it?' she asked.

He smiled again. 'You look very pretty today,' he said.

'Ha,' said Bulma.

Next he turned to Vegeta. 'Remember - don't let your guard down. I've pretty much cut myself out of the loop after what I've done, so I won't be able to warn you what and when they'll try something else.'

As he turned and hurried up the stairs the party guests turned on Bulma and Vegeta and erupted with questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Questions, comments? You know what to do.


	25. Living It Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Another shorter chapter. It's another long chapter snipped in two so that it doesn't get to wearying to scroll down while you're reading. Maybe I'll post the second half later today if people scream loud enough. I love getting your reviews by the way! What's the point of writing fan fiction if no-one reads it huh?

  
Bulma turned around and went back to the house to lay down on the bed. Wordlessly Vegeta followed, and they lay side by side without speaking until it was time to go to Korin's. They didn't stick about at the tower, but came right back to the lab, and Bulma threw herself into her work for the evening. Every time she glanced up Vegeta was just an arm's length away, watching her. She wanted to be alone, desperately, but at least Vegeta seemed as withdrawn as she. She could be alone inside her head.  
  
She worked until one and then decided it was past time to turn in. Vegeta was haunting her like her shadow again, a silent double team brushing their teeth, going to the bathroom. Once in the bedroom again the spectre of last night loomed up to meet her. She changed quickly, angrily, blushing at the memory and knowing that he regretted it greatly, and yet was as trapped in here as she was.  
  
'I'm sorry for all this,' she said as he got in bed beside her. She made sure to give him plenty of room – a good two feet separated them tonight.  
  
'You should be,' he grumbled.  
  
'About last night specifically.'  
  
He sighed. 'And what do you have to be sorry about?'  
  
She shrugged.  
  
'Don't worry, you will be sorry,' he muttered.  
  
'What do you mean?'  
  
He paused for a long time. 'You seem to be getting overly attached.'  
  
Bulma was glad the dim green dragon radar wouldn't allow him to see the ugly flush of shame that washed over her when he said that. It was true though, and she was already worried about it herself.  
  
'I didn't want to cause you more pain just by being here,' he went on. 'Looks like I didn't manage to avoid that. Maybe I'm the one that should be sorry.'  
  
The hole inside Bulma yawned open again, mournful and unquellable. This was one of those moments when the Vegeta she was with was so much more than the one who had died. She missed that one, had started to come to love that one, but he would never have said something like that. He wouldn't even have been able to feel that. This Vegeta was what the other might have evolved into if he'd been given the chance. It made her even sadder.  
  
'I don't care,' she said. 'It's worth it. You were dead, and I got you back - even for just a short time - it was worth whatever pain it costs.'  
  
Vegeta covered his face with his hands as if the words were hurting him, but Bulma had more to say.  
  
'Forget her being jealous of me, I'm jealous of your Bulma. She gets you back. She's already had you for years and years, and she gets to keep her son and her daughter and her family and friends and house, and you.'  
  
'Do not say such things Woman!'  
  
Bulma rolled onto her stomach, buried her face in her pillow and wished like hell for the privacy that she wouldn't get. Not until he was gone.  
  
The bloody Woman had him wallowing in shame. His chest hurt like he'd been kicked in the sternum by at least a super-Saiyan level two, and it was hard to breathe. He'd not sleep tonight either at this rate.  
  
What was that sound she was making? Perfect! She was crying into her pillow. Her crying made him feel even worse – Bulma almost never resorted to tears. He wanted to shred something, smash something, level an innocent mountain or two in frustration, but he was trapped by her side.  
  
No, what he really wanted to do was take her into his arms and tell her to stop that pathetic sound, but that wasn't allowed. He couldn't follow that impulse or he'd just be digging this hole deeper.  
  
He tried to bring to mind his mate – her hair style, the make up she liked to wear, the clothes, the shoes, the way she spoke to him, but now the memories slipped away from him like smoke. In her place he saw this Bulma; younger, sadder and still sexy as hell. It made him angrier with her – she was invading everything.  
  
'You could stay here with her,' said a voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Kibito-Kai's. The Kai had planted that seed of an idea in his head, damn the purple-skinned pansy! No, now he felt even worse for having that thought.  
  
Somewhere out there, where he'd left them, a Bulma was in mourning for her pig-headed mate who had never come home. He couldn't change that. And he couldn't change that his children would never see him again. Trunks was already a grown man when he'd left. He'd have liked to see him settled down, but if it were only Trunks whose life he was missing out on, he wouldn't have moved these mountains. The boy would get over it. Even Bulma would get over it. What tore him up, what made Vegeta really writhe with pain was the thought that his little girl was growing up without him. He hated the thought of her even going to the mall without him, and now she would have boyfriends, get into trouble, decide on a career, go to college, all without him to look after her, all the while wondering what had happened to her father. He couldn't change that either, but if he could complete his plan he could be the father to a Bra so similar he'd never notice a difference, and see her grow up.  
  
If he'd been roaming the timelines for fifteen years, then back in his timeline after fifteen years Bra would be thirty one years old. She'd already have a career, probably be married, and possibly even have kids already. Perhaps he was a grandfather like Goku. The thought left him feeling empty. He chuckled grimly in the dark. He'd once thought that a family was making him weak, holding him back. Now he was a man with no purpose without a family. He simply must get it back.  
  
Bulma and Trunks had taught him how to love, slowly, by inches. They'd given him something to live for beyond the prideful pursuit of eminence, and then he'd finally learnt to value life – a painful lesson. Kakarott and Buu had humbled him and taught him his place in that life, an even more painful lesson. But not till Bra had arrived had he learnt to enjoy the life he lived. He, the great Saiyan warrior prince, had been recast as a sentimental human. And now that he was remade, all he wanted was to get back those things that had given him his humanity.  
  
The woman rolled over, sniffing away her tears discretely. He curled his fists, fighting the urge to run his hands over her. She wouldn't say no. She'd want it. She'd give him anything he wanted. It made it hard not to take it from her. This Bulma needed him, probably more than his own did.  
  
'You seem to be getting overly attached,' he'd said to her. He should give himself the same advice.  
  
For once Bulma woke up first. She turned on the bedside lamp and wished that she had believed Vegeta when he'd told her it was pointless to bury the capsule house underground. That would be her first task after she got Trunks back – they would relocate the house above ground and she could finally wake up to sunshine instead of darkness after all these years.  
  
Vegeta slept on. She watched him for a while, unsure whether to wake him, or even how to wake him without alarming him. God, he was handsome. The now-familiar ache was back. She wanted to wake him just to hear his low, growling voice.  
  
But one mustn't get too attached! she reminded herself with a snort of derision.  
  
'Hey,' she said. 'Wake up.'  
  
He didn't move.  
  
'Wake up! Wake up Vegeta!'  
  
She tried bouncing on the bed, rocking him in his sleep. He still didn't stir.  
  
She poked him in the shoulder. No response. She was getting concerned now. She grabbed his shoulders and shook and shook.  
  
'Vegeta! Wake up!'  
  
He opened his eyes slowly, saw her and groaned, then closed his eyes again.  
  
'Hey, no! Don't go back to sleep! We have work to do.'  
  
'Aahhh!' he croaked. 'When will this nightmare end?'  
  
'Thanks a bunch,' she said, getting up and choosing clothes to wear with a lot of unnecessarily forceful movements. She had her hand on the doorknob when he shouted out 'Where do you think you're going?' Good question; she'd been heading to the shower, but she'd forgotten all about the need to stick close to him. When would the nightmare end indeed?  
  
'Get up already! I want a shower and to make up for yesterday's write-off! Why are you lazing in bed still?'  
  
'Lazing? You should try sharing a bed with another Bulma sometime, see how good a night's sleep YOU get!'  
  
They argued for the rest of the morning. On the whole it was far more enjoyable than the silence and tension of the evening before. Eighteen had left in the night, but now returned with Seventeen. It seemed like boredom and curiosity had gotten the better of his rage at Bulma. He didn't say anything to her or Vegeta, just ignored them and talked only to Sixteen and Eighteen. Bulma was having a hard time ignoring him in return though. She didn't want him there at all, and was annoyed that Vegeta seemed okay with it.  
  
She took stock of what was left to do on the machine. After lunch she began to fit out the lower compartment. Vegeta watched her with mounting suspicion. She knew he wasn't stupid, and so she was expecting it when he finally said 'So when are you going to tell me why your time machine apparently takes two people?'  
  
'Three, at a push,' she said. 'Better safe than sorry.'  
  
'Three? Are you actually proposing that you come along on this rescue mission?'  
  
'Yes I damn well am! Negative outcome universes Vegeta! I'll be damned if I sit back here wondering if I'm the Bulma that gets her son back or the one that never sees either of you again!' Her voice trembled with determination.  
  
He looked at her narrowly, calculating, coming to a decision. 'Very well. You could be useful even. Let us talk strategy.'  
  
There were three philosophies on how to retrieve Trunks, and they discussed their merits and drawbacks. The easiest way involved barrelling in there, not caring whether Trunks and everyone else knew that they were there and what they were doing. Vegeta was adamantly against this option. It would fundamentally change the timeline, unpredictably so.  
  
'We might lose him again. There's no point spiralling out more problems by cutting corners.'  
  
The second option involved concealing themselves from everyone except Trunks. It would be trickier, but doable. But Vegeta was still wary of this option. 'It might not change anything important, and then again, it might. Just the tiniest thing can sometimes wreck everything.'  
  
The last option was to conceal their interference from everyone including Trunks, and that would be next to impossible without a cloaking device. Bulma hadn't built it yet, and had been hoping she wouldn't have to bother. If she didn't build it they could save days. They went this way and that on it, trying to figure out a way that didn't require the stealth that the cloaking device provided. Bulma was torn in her own mind. On the one hand, she'd get her boy back faster, and have less chance to be attacked by angry Kaioshin before then. On the other, there was a higher chance something unpredictable would happen and push her son further out of reach, and they didn't know how long it would be until the Kai came for them anyhow.  
  
She chewed her lip, examining the notes and diagrams of the cloaking device on her laptop. Two days probably. And they would need some extra parts. She looked up at Vegeta. He was watching her with his arms folded, frowning, waiting for her to come to a decision. She knew which way he preferred. She had a sudden, ignoble thought – the long way meant she had him here two days longer.  
  
And much good that will do you Bulma, she thought to herself.  
  
Aloud she said to him 'Okay then. We'll do it once, and do it right.'  
  
He smiled with satisfaction. 'Good girl.'  
  
'Patronizing prick,' she traded back.  
  
So now they needed yet more parts. They were just figuring out the best places to look for them, and entered the hangar again when Seventeen announced loudly that he was bored.  
  
'Let's go looking for motorbikes Eighteen. It's really dull here.'  
  
'No. I think I'm going to stay here in case the god shows up. I think fighting a god would be worth the wait.'  
  
This seemed to piss Seventeen off. 'Well, that's nice for you, isn't it? I can't fight a god any more, so I guess I'll just be hanging out by myself again.'  
  
Eighteen shrugged. 'Suit yourself.'  
  
As Seventeen passed Vegeta and Bulma he turned a snarling face on Bulma and said 'Thanks a lot for crippling me, bitch!'  
  
He'd hardly got the words out before Vegeta had him by his shirt-front, pulling Seventeen off his feet and looking down his nose at the boy. His eyes gleamed dangerously.  
  
'Don't talk to her like that,' he said. 'It was my idea to clip your wings. Would you like to call me a bitch?'  
  
Seventeen stared back, silently outraged, but too scared to reply.  
  
'We could open you back up right now. How about that? You're at 7.5 percent right now, how would you like to find out what 2 percent feels like?'  
  
'His systems start to fail at one percent,' added Bulma.  
  
'Oh, well we could try one and a half percent! Would you like that, you ungrateful little snot?'  
  
Seventeen looked like he might cry with rage, but he breathed through it and tried for something like humility. 'No sir.'  
  
Vegeta let go of him.  
  
'You fixed me,' said Seventeen to Bulma, but without raising his eyes to look her in the face. 'You didn't have to. Thank you.' And then he left, quickly.  
  
Eighteen watched him go unhappily. 'I don't know why you did that to him, and not to me. Did you think I wasn't dangerous enough by myself?'  
  
'Are you volunteering for a neutering? I'll gladly do it as soon as I have the time,' said Bulma.  
  
'No,' said Vegeta. 'Eighteen stays at full strength.'  
  
'But why?'  
  
'A little mystery for you to ponder for the rest of your days,' said Vegeta.  
  
Sixteen narrowed his eyes at Vegeta. 'A time traveller must know much about what is coming. But this is just teasing us.'  
  
'Hopefully it doesn't drive you mad,' he chuckled evilly. 'For the record Eighteen, I always rated you as the better warrior between you and your brother.'


	26. Island Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Okay, I couldn't help it. I had to post this one today or I'd burst.

That afternoon found Vegeta and Bulma wandering the down halls of an abandoned hospital. There were magnets that she needed that could be found in some kinds of medical imaging equipment. They held hands, only letting go for Vegeta to rip the housing off MMR machines and similar, or Bulma to fossick around inside. It was like a mockery of a romantic stroll – her partner didn't want to be there, and the rotting wallpaper and peeling vinyl flooring really set the scene. Vegeta held her hand stiffly, and she had to seriously doubt his hand-holding experience. Their bickering from the morning had ended with their strategising. Now they were just being withdrawn and civil.

When poking through the innards of one of these Bulma saw a pair of beady black eyes and a whiskery, furry face dart out of a gap, coming straight at her hand. She leapt away backwards, letting out of shrill squeal of horror. Vegeta caught her in mid flight, and Bulma tried desperately to climb him whilst keeping her eyes on the machine.

'RAT! RAT!' she cried.

Vegeta tried to put her down on the ground. 'Don't be so –' but whatever he was about to say was cut off as a rat the size of a small dog squeezed itself out of the housing, straight towards his feet. 'Argh!' Vegeta staggered backwards and crashed into a wall before remembering that he possessed the power of flight, and floated them out of reach. The rat stood on its hind legs and squeaked aggressively at them.

'Dear Kami!' swore Vegeta. 'It doesn't give up!' He blasted a ball of chi at the rat, which exploded.

Vegeta breathed hard and Bulma shuddered. And then she laughed. She'd never seen Vegeta react like that to anything. He glared at her and she laughed harder, until reluctantly he began to laugh also.

'Disgusting things,' he said. 'Eurgh!'

Next they went to find crystals. They struck it lucky in a sea-side resort town. There was, as she had hoped, a tacky crystal shop a street back from the seafront, entirely intact and unlooted, merely abandoned, and it had the type she needed. Bulma found she was enjoying herself. As she gloated over the easy find Vegeta wrapped an arm round her shoulders. She wondered if he knew he was smiling. It was such a surprising expression to see on his face that she almost dropped her own smile.

'Where to next?' he said.

'To Turtle Island to get the heart virus antidote.'

It had been weighing upon Bulma's mind, and now that the machine was near completion she was anxious to have it on hand. Before she could blink they were standing in the blazing afternoon sun of Turtle Island. The house looked worse than ever. A palm was now growing jauntily out of the upper storey window.

'What happened here?' said Vegeta, surprised. 'Where's Roshi?'

'No-one knows,' said Bulma, making her way to the corner of the house where her capsule stash was buried. 'We think he may have made a last stand against the Androids. Or maybe he just got unlucky.'

He frowned. 'This timeline is more different from the original than I thought.'

'The original?'

'I believe the Trunks that visited my own timeline was from the original universe. The split caused by his arrival was the first, or so it's been conjectured. But what he told me of his world doesn't quite match this one. Someone's been here before.'

Bulma closed her eyes tightly, feeling the hot sand through her sneakers. It shifted as she moved, just like her whole reality seemed to these days. She was a player adrift in a game whose rules she didn't know, manipulated from on high in ways beyond her knowing. She felt cheated.

'I don't care. Whatever's been done to this place, I don't care. _This_ is my reality.'

Vegeta said nothing.

It was a hot day on the island, and Bulma shucked her lab coat. Underneath she wore the same short purple dress she had worn yesterday. She knelt to start digging the box up. Vegeta knelt behind her.

'Is there any reason you're not helping?' she asked.

Vegeta growled.

'I guess the guy that wears gloves all the time doesn't like to get his hands dirty.'

He didn't answer. She turned back to glare at him, annoyed, but when she saw that he was regarding her backside in the short skirt of the dress she turned back again, her annoyance fluttered away with the butterflies that erupted in her.

It occurred to her that he _had_ dug in the dirt before. He'd dug Goku's grave and wrecked a pair of gloves doing so. But it wasn't the same Vegeta.

'You're going to take all day about this are you?' said Vegeta, finally leaning forward to join her. He pulled off the black gloves and began scooping massive handfuls out of the hole she'd made. Within seconds he reached the case with the capsules inside. Bulma pulled it out and opened it up while Vegeta stood and dusted his hands off. The capsules were intact. In the case were now just one boat, one hovercar, one food supply and the capsule containing her heart virus antidote stash.

She took this, and then closed the case again and put it back in the hole, covering it up. Long years of caution wouldn't let her take more than she needed, or put too many eggs in one basket.

When she finally stood up she took a step back, bumping into Vegeta. He put an arm around her waist.

'Back to the lab?' he asked, his breath tickling her ear. Bulma was rigid with discomfort. Was he meaning to be this familiar with her? But no, he'd told her not to get attached, so surely not? She was probably just imagining it. But he _had_ definitely been staring at her ass earlier – she felt a bloom of arousal hit her at the memory.

'No, to the garden first.'

They left the magnet in the garden. It was such a powerful magnet it was too dangerous to bring into the lab. She would have to make the shielded housing for it first.

Back in the lab Bulma went about the work on the cloaking device feeling awkward under Vegeta's supervision. It was hard to keep her mind and even her eyes from straying to him frequently. Vegeta for his part was treating her with an abnormal amount of gentleness and attention. Which didn't mean that he didn't laugh at her when her acid test on a shard of the crystal unexpectedly exploded in pink foam. It splattered the bench, the floor and her lab coat, but at least he helped her clean the mess up. The lab coat was ruined by the corrosive mixture. He ripped the clean back of it to rags to use to clean up the rest of the foam. When he passed her one of these rags his fingers brushed hers and a tremor of desire ran through her.

 _I'm a hot mess today_ , Bulma moaned to herself silently. _And I can't stop looking at Vegeta to see if he's looking at me! I'm going to get us both killed if I don't get my head back in the game. What's wrong with me?_

She turned back to her notes on the laptop. If she was reading up on the device, at least she couldn't harm or damage something if she became distracted.

She was _very_ distracted. Before long she became aware that she could hear Vegeta breathing. He lounged with his elbow propped on the bench next to her. When she looked at him next he was looking at her neck as if it presented a puzzle. He glanced back to her eyes, inquiring, and Bulma felt a blush colouring her cheeks as she turned back to the laptop. She remembered him gasping into her neck two nights ago, spending himself in her, convulsing with pleasure, and her blush deepened, a rush of warmth heading to her loins as well. She stared at the screen, for a few moments so addled that she couldn't even fake reading. The notes could have been written in ancient Namekian for all she took them in.

She stood up abruptly and went to the house, pouring herself a glass of water and gulping it back. She went to the bathroom and washed her hands, splashed her face with cold water, but these efforts to cool her wandering thoughts didn't have their effect when Vegeta followed her every step of the way. He had a glass of water too, washed his hands at the same time as she did, and when she splashed her face he asked 'I understand that digging in the sand makes your hands dirty, but what on Earth are you doing now?'

'Freshening up.'

She got back to the laptop, read three paragraphs and felt quite pleased with herself for not bringing Vegeta to mind in that time before realising she'd just fallen off the wagon again. On reflex she turned again, and saw that he was sitting back in his chair, his lips parted, his eyes unfocused, looking right back at her, drinking her in.

With a feeling near panic she turned back to the laptop again. She wasn't imagining this was she? Memories of their love making the other night snarled up with today's odd afternoon, walking around holding hands, as uncomfortable as school children on their first date. She stared at her hands, still feeling his touch. She wanted to feel it again, and she wanted him to _mean_ it. She could practically feel his gaze on her now. She wanted those kisses again, the kisses that swept her away along the dark river of desire. She touched her lips with her fingertips and they tingled. She wanted to be in his arms and have him feed the ache inside her. Want, want! She was all about want!

She closed the laptop. She didn't know what she was going to do now, but it couldn't involve concentration – her heart beat hard and her lips felt swollen. She looked back over her shoulder from the workbench, knowing, even as she tried to stop them, that her eyes were going to slide right to Vegeta. She saw his grey boots first, then the black jeans which were even more worn that when he'd arrived in this timeline, and the cream and white patched shirt that they'd bought from the market, open at the neck. When her gaze made it to his face Bulma felt spots of colour bloom on her cheeks, all thoughts chased away by the direct stare of Vegeta.

'I…' she started, but then faltered, having no clue what she had been planning to say.

Suddenly he pushed up from his chair, knocking it over in the haste with which he crossed the distance between them. Bulma's eyes widened with alarm before he buried his face in the crook of her shoulder, breathing in deeply. He pressed himself against her, knocking her back against the workbench, facing away from him. She caught herself with her hands on the bench and nearly screamed with joy at the suddenly reciprocated desire. Instead she laughed disbelievingly. Vegeta was hard where he pressed himself against her and her knees were turning to water as he rubbed his face up the sensitive skin of her neck. He ran his hands up her arms too, then down her front. He squeezed a breast with one hand while pulling her tighter against him with the other.

Bulma gasped, and looked out through the glass windows of the hangar where the two androids were lounging in the sun – they had opened the overhead hangar doors. Sixteen was looking back at her in frank surprise.

'Vegeta!' she whispered, 'we have company here!'

'Not any more,' he replied. The bench in front of her disappeared. Vegeta let go of her and she stumbled to her hands and knees on the hot sand of Turtle Island.

* * *

Vegeta laughed - the sight of her on all fours before him in that dress was rather inflaming. He'd been thinking of it over and over since she's dug up the box earlier, and here it was again.

'You're a wicked woman; I'm sure you wore that dress on purpose,' he said, the laughter in his voice not quite hiding the anger in it. He _was_ angry. He really did think she'd worm that dress on purpose.

The Woman flipped herself over, the skirt riding up her thighs now. Gods, she had no mercy.

'Of course I didn't! You know I don't have many clothes.'

She held her hand out for him to help her up, and he did, pulling her rather too hard. She tumbled right into him and he trapped her. Her eyes weren't smiling now, she was slightly scared, which he was glad of. Let her be frightened – this was her fault. He wasn't sure what had happened today. He'd let down his defences at some point, forgotten who he was with and what they were about, and then that dress, and here! He'd often wondered what it would be like to have her on this beach, right out in the open, in the middle of the day. And then the torture of this afternoon – unable to get away from her, and all the time he could see and smell her mounting arousal. The scent was like a drug to him, enticing, inciting, stupefying. When she'd glanced at him her eyes were dark blue pools of hopeless desire. His good intentions were in tatters. _She's the same person_ , his senses told him. _She's your Woman_. He couldn't hold out against her any longer.

He'd made himself a deal whilst watching her dither and blush in front of her laptop – he told himself that it would be the better thing if they could just blow off the lust with a quick, mindless screw - that way they'd both have clearer heads for the task at hand. All he had to do was not let himself fall apart, and not let the Woman get too emotional. She'd said she didn't care about getting too attached, so let the consequences be on her head. Here, out in the blazing sun, there would surely be less shadows for emotion to hide in, and there'd be no expectation for him to sleep snuggled up to her afterwards either.

He kissed her roughly, and she squeaked, but she didn't resist. She melted. Her mouth was soft and giving. Her trust was disarming. She kissed him back…

The world narrowed to just himself and the creature he held in his arms. He could feel her breath on his cheek, and her weak arms clung to him with all their might. God how he had missed that…Shit, he was totally lost already!

The Woman broke it off, leaving him disorientated. He opened his eyes, surprised to see that the sun was still shining.

'I thought you said that this wouldn't happen again,' she said, smiling once more.

'And you told me not to be a ridiculous martyr,' he said, his voice husky. He was surprised he could still speak sensibly at all. She twined her fingers in his hair, stroked his cheek with her other hand.

Her smile faded away, looking up at him with her mouth open, frowning. She was concerned for him.

'Why? What changed your mind?'

He had to halt the way this was going. He wanted to just do what he'd come here for – to scratch their burning itch mindlessly and not feel the pain of the other night again.

'Shush Woman! I didn't come here to soul search.' He kissed her again, willing the confusion away, grabbing a handful of the round rump she'd been teasing him with before. Yes, this was it. He'd have her in the sand – revenge for all those times she'd sunbathed here in her tiny bikinis to the delight of that letch Roshi and the pig. She'd always been a cock-tease.

He pushed her back and grabbed the hem of the dress, pulling it up over her head. It was a stretchy thing, and it sprung away, leaving the woman blinking in her underwear. She seemed shy about it, standing with her arms crossed infront of her stomach, which wasn't like Bulma. His Bulma was brazen about her nakedness. It was probably some earthling woman thing, like her underwear wasn't matching, or she'd forgotten to shave her armpits or something. But no, now that he thought about it, this Bulma _was_ more timid. He'd thought her modesty was about not wanting to antagonise him, but they were well past that. Was she actually shy of him?

He grasped her wrists and pulled her arms away from her body. Then he put a finger under the strap of her bra.

'Take this off,' he instructed. She did, while he also pulled his shirt and gloves off. Her face lit up at the sight of his bare chest and arms. Vegeta grinned; her admiration as warming as the evening sun on his back. He hadn't worked all his life on having the perfect warrior's physique to impress her, but it was a side effect he enjoyed. For her part, her breasts were gleaming soft and pale in the sun, like ripe fruits waiting to be picked. But first things first. He pointed at her panties.

'Those too.'

She wriggled out of them, and he kept one eye on her tuft of blue hair they revealed as he shucked his boots and climbed out of his own jeans and underwear. Of course, this was easier said than done with grace. He nearly lost his balance and hopped around a couple of times with one foot stuck in the leg of his jeans. The Woman reached out to steady him, earning herself a growl, but she just laughed. He stood up, dick pointing straight at it's intended destination. That's when she rushed him. She wrapped one arm round his neck, grasped his penis with her other hand and pressed herself against him.

She was rubbing her face against his neck now, then biting him gently. The little spikes of pressure from her teeth blended with the strokes of her tight little fist on his dick, a mix of pleasure and pain that was more than the sum of it's parts. Then she bit him a little harder. He was making some kind of noise, and doing, he was not sure what, with his arms. As she turned up the pressure he almost fell to his knees. He'd lost control of the situation _again._

Her breasts were squishing up against this chest, but she wouldn't let him get a hand in to touch one. She was latched on like a limpet, and he'd have to pull her off him first. Her scent was much stronger now, he could barely think straight. He tried fighting fire with fire; licking her throat, pressing her ear lobe against his teeth with his tongue. She made a noise like 'hunnnn,' so then he bared his teeth and bit her just lightly at the crook of her neck. She jumped and squirmed, and let go of him. He was just about to take charge again when she slithered down his front, splaying her fingers wide to touch as much of him as possible. He was momentarily distracted by the sensation of her silky hair sliding down his chest and abdomen, his own hair beginning to stand on end, when another even more diverting sensation struck him – her hot little mouth had closed over his prick.

'Ha-aaahh!' was his involuntary utterance.

She went to work on him, and he held still. Weak though she was, she had his most delicate parts to ransom now, with her hands and her teeth and her soft, sucking lips. He gave himself over to trusting her. Gah! It was too good! If he didn't stop her soon he wouldn't get to finish fulfilling the daydream she'd inspired with the purple dress. When he couldn't stop himself from moving his hips to her movements, when he felt himself close to the edge he gasped out 'Stop Woman!'

She let him go long enough to ask in a mock innocent voice 'You want me to stop?' That was all the moment he needed – he lifted her swiftly by her shoulders, kissed her, and then, because she still had too much control with her feet under her, he dipped her low to one side, one arm around her back to hold her weight, the other free to roam. She squeaked in surprise but soon he had her moaning into his mouth. He filled a hand with one of her breasts – the soft weight of it satisfying in a way he couldn't explain, her nipple hard against this palm. This he rubbed softly. She arched, pushing up against him and he laughed, obliging her silent demand for more. When he finally abandoned her breast he sought out the warmth between her legs and found her slippery and swollen already. She squirmed against his hand and her reaction quickened his own arousal.

He couldn't help it – she'd think him an animal, but he brought his hand back to his face, turning his face from her kiss to smell her sex on his fingers. Sweet heaven, he couldn't wait any longer. She was ready.

He let her fall from his hands to land sprawling in the sand.

He took a second to take a mental picture of her naked outrage, limbs spread wide before she popped back up again, snapping her legs shut.

'You jerk! What's the big idea?'

He dropped to his knees in front of her, enjoying the moment, and grasped her knees, spreading her legs again. She didn't really resist – her anger was no match for her desire at this point. He made a detour now he was here, to taste that salty slipperiness that he hadn't had in years, and she practically cried.

'Vegeta!'

He didn't know how his name could be so erotic. Just the sound of her begging him made his balls tighten, eager to release their load. After a few moments he answered her call, raising himself, then raising her hips with both hands and sinking himself deep into her.

For a second he lost his breath. The sensation went beyond his cock, right up his spine and nearly knocked his brain offline. But the sight of her open mouthed in the sand brought him back to earth. He leant over her, one hand to balance himself and one to tease her nipple. He thrust away, all the thoughts of revenge and bikinis falling by the way side, all that mattered was this and her and now.

She reached her arms up to him, and just like when she'd cried his name he obeyed her. He pulled her up into his lap, wanting to be closer, wanting…something. Whatever it was he'd give it to her.

She moved in his lap and kissed him, even while she kept the rhythm going, relentless. The Woman had him again, her pretty face contorted with the pleasure she was wreaking. Holding onto his shoulders she straightened again, mouth open to the sun, deep blue eyes staring straight into his heart – he was loved, he was wanted…it cracked him down the middle, and the pain of it was breathtaking.

'Ah, Vegeta!' she cried again.

He cried out himself as he came, but she kept going, dragging out his own pleasure making him gasp over and over again, shuddering as he lost himself in her. He saw her eyes close as her climax took her and she groaned, her body pulsing, squeezing him again and again. Her hair was mussed, her face sweaty and pink cheeked, her mouth red and swollen and she panted, opening her eyes to look into his.

'You're so beautiful,' he said, still catching his breath.

It was one of those moments that hurt nearly as much as Frieza's energy bolt piercing his chest. She smiled, then laughed, but her eyes were misty. Those weren't tears were they?

He'd gone way off script.

 _Oh gods, I've done it again_ , he told himself as she rubbed her nose against his and kissed him lightly on the mouth. Then she hid her face in his shoulder and clung to him like he might turn to smoke and float away. He found he didn't want her to stop.

Yes, he was at the bottom of a hole, digging himself deeper with every day, every turn, every gods-be-damned look into those blue eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: How'd you feel about the situation he's put himself in? Review and let me know. For time travel enthusiasts, more plot, less kissy kissy on the horizon.


	27. Bound

The Woman wanted to swim. 'I've got sand in places that should never have sand!'

Vegeta laughed despite his heaviness of heart. His revenge for her days flashing herself on this island had finally been realised. To bad it was visited on the wrong Bulma.

He followed her into the warm water.

The Woman was dunking herself in the water, splashing about and surreptitiously trying to clean herself.

He checked the position of the sun and worried that it was almost dinner time.

'Vegeta!'

He turned quickly back to her and received a small jet of water in the face. She'd used her hands to somehow fire water at him. What did she think she was doing?

She laughed and squirted him again. He turned his face quickly so that it missed.

'Cut it out Woman!'

'What? Don't you want your hair-do to get wet?'

He barred his teeth at her. Where did she get off being so bubbly? 'Don't be stupid.' He ducked his head below the water, scrubbing his face and scalp under the water to clean himself. When he surfaced another squirt of water hit him in the face and he spluttered. She laughed again, and his annoyance broke free. He pushed a wave of water at her to splash her back. The resultant sheet of water hit her like a water cannon and knocked her backwards under the water.

'Oh shit.'

She came up coughing and blinking seawater out of her eyes. 'You asshole!'

He laughed at her now that he saw that she was all right.

'Remind me never to try and have fun with you ever again!' she scolded. Then she turned and began swimming away from him, muttering about Saiyans with no sense of humour.

He followed her, chuckling. 'I don't know about no sense of humour, I found that last bit pretty funny.'

He liked swimming naked. It was even better when the water was this temperature. But the woman was too slow for him. He grabbed at her foot, splashing in front of his face.

'Hey!' She kicked away faster. When he caught up again he tried the same tactic.

'Hey!' she said again, looking back at him, irritated. 'It's like swimming with a shark on my heels!'

He gave her a toothy, menacing grin. 'But I'm more dangerous and have a bigger appetite.'

Her scornful look softened and she smiled. 'Oh really?'

Gods, what was he doing? Was he flirting with her now?

'Come on, we should go, it's getting late,' he said, angry with himself again.

'Agreed.' She waded back to shore and he let her go first, watching her as she emerged from the water, the sea water running in rivulets down her back and dripping from the curves of her buttocks. He could already feel the stirrings of lust returning. His plan to clear the air by giving in to a quick, no-nonsense screw was revealed in its utter foolishness. And now how was he to put this genie back in the bottle?

She practically skipped on the sand. She wasn't shy about her nudity now.

'Stop being so happy,' he muttered, but not loud enough for her to hear.

As he came up out of the water she grinned slyly at his crotch.

'Looks like you could go another round!'

He just snarled at her. 'Get dressed!'

She looked upset. Oddly this made him feel no better than her cheerfulness. 'I'm soaking wet though!'

He walked straight up to her gathering his chi, stirring the air around then and heating it with his energy. He stood silently next to her in the middle of his personal tornado.

She covered her face with her hands as the wind whipped around then. He resisted reaching out to hold her.

What a self-deceiving idiot he was! How many times did he have to learn this lesson? Since when had sex with Bulma ever been just sex? It was the bait in the same trap that he had first stumbled into all those years ago. It was always just another cord in the rope that bound him to her. And this wasn't the right Bulma to be bound to.

'Is that how you normally dry off?' she asked as he let the air slip away.

'No! It's hardly practical, is it?'

They dressed. He finished first of course. It seemed he was always waiting for her. While he waited he noticed some sort of arrangement of smooth white stones at the end of the house. It hadn't been there in his day.

'What are these?' he asked as she joined him.

Her face twisted with some appalling emotion. He wondered how this simple question could have dismayed her as she hesitated. She pointed at the far rectangle. 'Krillin.' And then the nearer one. 'Yamcha.'

Urh. Krillin was kind of a friend. Yamcha he didn't care much for, but he knew she did, and they had made love practically right on top of their graves.

'Sorry,' he said, meaning that he was sorry he'd brought them here. To him this place was just the scene of parties and idleness, but for her it was now a graveyard for her friends. What a dismal reality this was.

'It's all right. It's not your fault they're dead.'

He felt so bad for her. She was all alone in the world except for her son. He recalled her saying how jealous she was of the Bulma he left behind. He could see why.

He laid an arm across her shoulders to transport her back to the lab, but seeing her face still so downcast was making him feel bad himself. He held her closer than necessary, almost, not quite, a hug.

She was the same woman as his mate. It was the only explanation for how he was feeling.

* * *

Bulma's heart was singing. She couldn't look at Vegeta right now and not smile. Even his wildly swinging moods couldn't really bring her down.

When they got back from eating dinner at Korin's she went to the hangar to carry on working, Vegeta following her like a faithful dog. Or an unfaithful one. She backed up mentally. _No, strike that, forget all comparison's to any kind of dog_ , she told herself.

Sixteen and Eighteen stared at her when she walked in, but said nothing. Sixteen was wearing a faint frown of disapproval, while Eighteen was wearing a sneer of disgust and amusement.

Bulma nearly died of shame on the spot. She'd forgotten all about the communicators. They would have heard everything. Sixteen must have already known something was going on, but who knows what the two of them together had made of the sounds that came across the coms unit.

'You have something to say?' Vegeta growled at Eighteen.

Bulma smiled yet again and busied herself going up the step ladder to work on the cockpit. He was defending her honour now?

'Only, maybe mute the phone next time. I really didn't have to hear that!'

'You don't!' Bulma snapped. But the next time she had a chance she opened up the back of her and Vegeta's communicators and pulled out the solder that held the broadcast switch open.

She worked fast through the evening, trying to make up for the time wasted during the afternoon. Vegeta paced, lounged, even lay on the floor in various poses of boredom and despair. It would have upset her, except that every time she caught his eye his gaze was full of feeling. She felt weightless when he looked at her. He hadn't pushed her away. He hadn't proclaimed it all a mistake. He was suffering, but he wasn't angry at her. It was good enough for her.

When they went to bed that night, the unasked question hung heavy in the air. After the tooth brushing and bathroom using was all over, she steeled herself for rejection. She stood in front of the bed and waited till he raised his haunted gaze from the floor. She pushed her sneakers off with her feet, and then slowly and deliberately pulled her dress up and over her head.

He growled, a low subterranean sound, soft, nearly a purr really, she decided. He stepped towards her, like a sleepwalker, bent and picked her up, his hands sinking into the flesh of her backside. She wrapped her legs around him, her heart beating faster, a smile of triumph spreading across her face. He pressed his face into her chest, then breathed out, his growl definitely a purr now.

'Ah…Bulmaaaaa!'

He bit her breast lightly through her bra, then tumbled them both onto the bed.

* * *

For the next four days Bulma felt herself in an odd state, suspended between heaven and hell.

The very next morning after the dalliance on Turtle Island, she spotted Kibito-Kai standing in the corner of the hangar, just for a second, but he was gone before she could cry out a warning. If anything could put the fear of god in her it was…well, a god. She worked diligently, hastily, but often distractedly, as both her nerves and Vegeta were getting the better of her. She was often on the look out for the next attempt on her, and at the same time she was acutely aware of Vegeta's presence. He prowled the immediate area like a caged animal, occasionally stopping to sniff the air, which only added to the impression. The very recent memories of their lovemaking would cavort through her mind frequently.

At the end of each day she couldn't stay up late. She was exhausted, strung out, and it was no wonder, as each night the moment the bedroom room was closed she and Vegeta fell upon one another, devouring each other, trying to satisfy an appetite for each other that only seemed to be growing. They didn't talk about this. There were no more accusations and declamations. Bulma was afraid to say anything about their nightly episodes in case she caused him to end them. It was eerily similar to the start of her relationship with him seventeen years ago. Then, like now, there was confusion and denial after their first encounters. Vegeta had been very clear that he was not interested in having a mate, or being emotionally involved with anyone, but that didn't stop them wordlessly taking of that thing they both wanted – each other. And then, like now, Bulma was afraid to rock the boat by seeking to put words to what was happening between them.

As it turned out, it wasn't a heart to heart that wrecked things, but a simple casual remark.

* * *

On the fifth day they went to Korin's for diner, as usual, but were slightly too early. While Korin was serving up in the kitchen they leaned against the rail of the tower, looking out at the sunset. From this altitude it was stunning.

'It's heading towards Autumnal equinox,' said Vegeta. 'Not that you'd be able to tell by the weather.'

'The summer's really lingered this year,' she agreed. 'It hasn't cooled off much. I've normally got another blanket on the bed by this time of year.'

'Well maybe it's the extra body in the bed that's keeping you warm.'

Bulma looked over at him, to see him looking slyly at her out the corner of his eye. His mouth widened into a grin of pure wickedness. She snorted with laughter.

She caught a glimpse of movement out of her eye and turned around to see Korin standing there holding a tray with their dinner on. He raised his eyebrows.

'Dinner's ready.'

They ate, and Bulma started to fill Korin in on the time machine progress. She could tell he wasn't into it, but she wasn't sure why.

'So I'm only days away from finishing. Five days max!' she concluded, though this news didn't elicit the response she expected. Korin was glaring at her.

'And then you get Trunks back?'

'Yes.'

He looked at Vegeta 'And then you go back home to your children and your _wife_.'

There was an uncomfortable pause before Vegeta replied in a soft menacing tone, daring the cat to go further. 'That's right.'

Korin looked from one to the other, glaring at them both. Bulma felt her face turning red with shame.

'Do you think I don't know what's going on between you two? Do you think I'm stupid?'

Bulma shook her head no, but Vegeta growled.

'You two should be ashamed of yourselves!'

'But his wife is _me!_ ' said Bulma in a small voice.

'It's no business of yours, Cat,' snapped Vegeta. 'Butt out!'

Korin got more flustered by this. 'I'm your elder! I suppose it's too much to ask that someone as self-serving as you speak with some respect?'

'Respect?' roared Vegeta. 'You're a sad old hermit that lives on the top of a giant toothpick!'

Korin gasped and then yelled back 'You really take the cake Vegeta! After all I've been doing to help you and this is the way you speak to me? You've made a fool of me! I've been labouring under the impression I was helping reunite you with the family you supposedly love so much, and in the meanwhile you've been having a bit on the side!'

Bulma wanted the floor to open up and swallow her when he scolded her next. 'I know times have been hard for you lately Missy, but really! I'm honestly surprised at you Bulma.' Then he turned back to Vegeta. 'Though I'm not sure why I'm so surprised by _you,_ Vegeta.'

'And what would you know?' snarled Vegeta, leaping to his feet. 'I'll not be judged by a nine hundred year old virgin!'

Korin sputtered, his eyes opening beyond their usual slits in bug-eyed fury. 'Then you can get the hell off my tower!' he roared.

'With pleasure!'

Bulma didn't even have time to stand before Vegeta gripped her shoulder. The tower was replaced by the hangar. Vegeta immediately let go of her, turning away and resuming his pacing, up and down the width of the hangar, every muscle tense with anger. His resemblance to a caged animal was more pronounced than ever. She imagined that if he still had his tail it would be lashing backwards and forwards like an enraged lion's.

'What has happened?' said Sixteen, coming to attention at his post. Bulma saw that he'd removed the green body armour. Standing there in his black cat suit he looked far more human without it.

'Nothing.' she told him. 'Nothing for you to worry about.'

Timidly she approached Vegeta. His expression was alarming, but he didn't look at her.

'Korin's wrong-' she started, but he cut her off.

'Just finish the fucking time machine Woman!' he yelled.

She backed off, gulping down on the tears that suddenly threatened.

 _He's right,_ said the rational part of her. _Just put your head down and finish the machine. All else is distraction._

She charged into her work that evening, drowning out all the dissenting voices inside of her with electronics and screws and bending sheet steel into the outer housing for the cloaking device. Androids came and went, talking and laughing, but it was background noise to her. As she screwed the mount points for the magnet in place the screwdriver slipped from her fingers and bounced away across the floor.

Vegeta picked it up and set it on the bench.

'That's enough!' he said harshly. 'Go to bed.'

Bulma caught his eye for the first time that night, and the anger she hadn't even realised was there burst forth.

'"Finish the fucking time machine!" "Go to bed!" Make your mind up, Vegeta!'

'Woman it is one thirty on the morning!'

Bulma picked the screw driver up just to spite him. She was exhausted, now that she came to think of it, but she wasn't going to dance to Vegeta's tune.

He snatched it back out of her hand.

She turned back to the housing, selecting from her leather holdall the next size screwdriver down, which would do in pinch, and then felt herself dragged backwards off her feet, Vegeta's hands hard around her arms.

'Let go of me!' she yelled, struggling to break free. He didn't relent, but turned and began frog-marching her out of the lab, so she struggled with all her might, kicking back at him, letting her weight fall to the floor, knowing it was useless, but wanting to show him her fury. 'You can't treat me like this, you arrogant, high handed, controlling son of a bitch!'

He growled at her, then with a few swift movements had her bundled into a ball against his chest, all limbs pinned there. She heard Eighteen laugh from the hangar and wished her cruel misfortune.

'Can't I? Don't take your bile out on me!' said Vegeta.

'Oh, then how about you don't take yours out on me?'

He put her down when they reached the house, and fuming, she strode ahead and cleaned her teeth, then got changed, steadfastly not looking in his direction. Once she was in bed though she began to have second thoughts about her towering dudgeon. They didn't have much time left together, did she really want to waste it being angry with him?

She made up her mind to say something reconciliatory when Vegeta got into the smaller trundle bed.

'You don't have to sleep over there,' she said. 'I'm going to issue you with a one time only get-out-of-jail-free card.'

'Woman, I have no idea what you mean, but it doesn't matter - I don't _want_ to sleep over there!'

'But…'

'But nothing. This is the way it should have stayed. This is the way it should only ever been!'

He turned the light out and Bulma felt his rejection twist in her gut like a knife. She huddled on the edge of the bed closest to him, too scared to sleep more than an arm's length away from him, but wanting to scream and shred some pillows in frustration.

'It takes two to tango you know!' she hissed at him in the dark. 'Don't blame me when it was just as much you muddying up your conscience!'

'What makes you think I'm angry with _you?_ ' he yelled back. 'Shut up Woman! Please! Just go to sleep and leave me some peace this night!' He finished on such a note of misery that she would have felt sorry for him if he hadn't made her feel so bad in return. It hurt. But god, what had she expected? It was _Vegeta_ after all. She could hardly claim to have not known he was a difficult lover. It was a miracle really that they'd gone so long without falling out. She'd already got more from him than she'd dared hope.

It was obvious that he was struggling under a massive weight of guilt, but despite what Korin said, this wasn't cheating. Vegeta was en-route from a Bulma he could never get back to in one universe, to a Bulma in another.

 _What does that make you?_ she asked herself. _The truck-stop Bulma on the way through?_

* * *

Vegeta opened his eyes, not sure what had awoken him. The infernal woman was still and breathing softly on the larger bed. He could hear, smell and sense nothing unusual. The clock said it was just past five in the morning. Too early to get up. He was still bone tired anyway.

He thought he'd sleep much better without having to put up with her nocturnal flailings, but this was the third time he'd awoken. He'd actually started to get used to sleeping on the bed with her, another thing that he felt guilty about, as he'd never forced himself to suffer long enough to adjust to his own mate's sleeping habits. He hadn't even considered that it might be possible to. The previous night he had only woken once, when she had somehow managed to push him out of bed.

He raised himself to get a better look at her, then lay back down again. He was almost regretting not taking to her bed, but if he had he probably wouldn't have been able to resist her yet again, and he was resolved not to give in anymore. This shameful state of affairs had gone on long enough.

It wasn't just the sex. He'd developed a strange anxiety, probably due to the hovering threat of the Supreme Kai, but every moment that he didn't have eyes or hands on her he felt nervous and uneasy. When he could see her, or touch her or smell her he felt okay, the anxiety soothed away. She was becoming an obsession that he was worried he would not easily quit, and it made him feel bad because he's never had such an obsession with his own mate. He was never usually worried for his own Bulma's safety. And sure, her face and voice and scent and touch were all soothing, but he'd never got uptight about turning his back on her or letting her sleep in her own bed without him.

He thought bitterly of the Eastern Supreme Kai. It was all _his_ fault.

Almost as if the thought had summoned the presence, he felt him. He reached across and snatched Bulma from the bed just as the com unit on the bedside table came to life with Android 16's voice.

'Ve-'

He didn't wait around long enough to hear the rest, he transported them both to the hangar. Bulma's scream mingled with Eighteen's cry of effort as she went toe to toe with Kibito-Kai in the hangar. Sixteen stood between them and the machine, fending it, and just as quickly as this chaos erupted it was over as the Kai made his exit in a puff of vacuum.

'Where'd he go?' said Eighteen looking all around the room.

'Back to heaven no doubt.'

'What a coward – we'd barely got started!'

'He _is_ a coward,' agreed Vegeta.

'He was here?' said Bulma, sinking to the floor. She was crying, awoken straight from sleep to terror. His own heart was beating fast with it. There were rings under her eyes. She needed more sleep.

'The excitement is over, Woman, don't get carried away.'

She merely sat trembling and weeping on the floor. Reluctantly he picked her up, and instantly felt better himself. Ashamed of himself yet again, he carried her back to the bedroom, letting himself breathe in the scent coming from the wide neck of the t-shirt she wore. He was just settling her on the trundle bed when he noticed something about that scent. It was changing again, just slightly, in a way that was vaguely familiar to him.

He piled a couple of extra pillows and a blanket on top of her, and told her 'We're going to sleep the rest of the night in the hangar, in case he comes back, understand?'

She nodded, completely trusting. It made him feel strange. This younger Bulma made him feel paternally protective towards her in a way he never had towards his own. Was it her? The situation? _Himself?_ The thought came back to him again, stronger now, fully formed – when the time came how was he going to bring himself to leave her?

 _With the self-discipline of a lifetime warrior_ , he told himself, and knew he could do it. He could force himself to do anything that was necessary…no matter how unpleasant it was.

He carried her, mattress and all, back to the hangar, leaving the frame of the bed in the room. He put her on the mattress up against he wall, then took the extra pillows and blanket for himself and lay down next to her on the floor. It was uncomfortable, but he wasn't planning on getting any deep rest for the remainder of the night.

'Thank you for saving me,' she said, calm now. She held her hand out over the edge of the mattress.

'Woman, of all the ridiculous things to say,' he replied tiredly, 'He was after the machine this time, not you.' But he took her hand anyway. She closed her eyes, and soon she was drifting back off to sleep, her breath slow and brushing across his face. She looked young. How old was she anyway? He tried to work it out, and realised that she was in her late forties. The physical differences between her and his mate were more than he'd expect for fifteen years.

When it became obvious that he was aging slower than his Bulma, she'd worried endlessly that he would not want her anymore once she was an old lady. He'd told her more than once that her aging didn't matter to him, and he'd meant it. The only thing he had really worried about was his outliving her by a long way. He might even outlive his children. And then what would he do? The only goal that would be left in his life would be a battle to the death with Kakarott, and his friend wasn't even around to satisfy that last wish.

He reckoned that he might have as much as half his life left to live. He didn't feel old yet, but this Woman made him feel…not young. If he were to stay here though he'd probably still outlive her…but by less.

No. There was Bra to think of. _They_ were his family.

Thank the gods that this would all be over soon and he could put such thoughts and doubts to rest. _For now_ her presence comforted him. _For now_ he was anxious without her right next to him. It would pass when things were back to how they should be.

Her breath tickled his nose. She even smelled younger. He closed his eyes, about to turn away so that he wouldn't have to be reminded, when the vague memory of that scent clicked into place.

Oh holy Kami-on-a-stick - it couldn't be?


	28. Inevitable

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: My chapter buffer between what I'm posting and writing is only two chapters, and that's not much room to polish them. I'm constantly going back and cleaning up mistakes.

They woke early in the hangar. Eighteen's enthusiasm for keeping guard had been piqued by actually getting to trade blows with the Kai. She was annoyingly cheerful about it.

Vegeta was cranky as all hell, but Bulma wasn't surprised after everything that had happened in the last twelve hours.

'What are we going to do about breakfast? she complained. 'I'm not sure we have a single edible thing in the house.'

'We'll go to Korin's of course,' said Vegeta, rubbing his stiff back. He looked rough. He was also avoiding her eye again.

'After last night?' she said, disbelievingly.

'He didn't say not to come back.'

She stared at him and wondered how exactly his mind worked. Seriously, he thought that would be all right? Truthfully, she didn't want to show her face at Korin's ever again, especially not coming hat in hand begging for more help.

'Well I don't think he's going to want to help us anymore.'

'Then we'll find another way. Or maybe I'll just persuade him.'

'Persuade? Just exactly how do you propose to-' but she didn't get to finish as Vegeta clapped his hand on her shoulder and the next instant they stood on the open floor of Korin's tower.

Korin stood with his back to them looking out over the world, the morning sun behind him, giving his silhouette a golden halo of fur.

'I wondered if you'd have the gall to show up here this morning,' he said, turning slowly. 'I guess you really are desperate.'

'I'm sorry, Korin,' said Bulma, feeling embarrassed to be there. 'Vegeta shouldn't have said those things-'

Vegeta cut her off again. 'Shut up Woman! I am not apologizing, and you'll not do it for me.'

She lost her temper. 'You know what Vegeta, you're right – I shouldn't need to apologise for your being a prince-sized asshole!

They glared at each other. Bulma had her fists clenched, ready for who knew what, because punching him in the face, like she felt like doing, wasn't going to achieve much.

'Charming,' said Korin.

'Are you going to feed us or not, Cat?' said Vegeta, barely taking his furious eyes off her.

'Well, I had been in a forgiving mood this morning, but you're making it hard to maintain, Vegeta.' He stomped towards them, leaning heavily on his staff.

'You mean you will?' said Bulma, surprised. Vegeta just made a satisfied 'hmm,' sound and folded his arms. 'But why?' she asked.

'Well, Vegeta was wrong about one or two things,' he said, making his way towards the kitchen. Bulma and Vegeta fell in behind him. 'I was married once, in my youth. Met a girl so amazing that I left the temple, left my master, and ceased my training to get a job and marry her. It was the best time of my life. I only had her a few years before she died giving birth to our first child. That was…very common back then, although I guess it's common now too.'

Bulma nodded solemnly. Without hospitals and a dwindling number of trained doctors, nurses and midwives, childbirth mortality was back to levels that hadn't been seen for a hundred years or more. 'I'm sorry, Korin.'

'So am I! The most amazing woman I ever met, dead because I loved her. I lost my wife, my child and nearly my mind before I decided to return to the temple and lose myself in my training.'

Vegeta grunted. Bulma glanced at him, but he was staring at the back of Korin's head. She would be surprised if Vegeta didn't know a thing or two about losing oneself in training.

Korin continued, reaching the kitchen door now and turning to look at them both before going through. 'If I imagine myself and Maizie in the same situation you two find yourselves in, I'm not sure what I'd do. Probably no better than you two are. And what I wouldn't have given for a time machine!' Bulma was worried that he might ask to use hers, but he added 'It wouldn't do me much good these days though. A twenty year old woman doesn't have much use for a eight hundred and seventy four year old hermit.' He scowled at Vegeta. 'Nine hundred indeed!'

He gave them a simple breakfast of toasted nutbread and coffee. Bulma couldn't finish her coffee. Despite her rough night it wasn't going down well.

'So why are you helping us even when we're going against the will of the Kaioshin then?' she asked Korin meekly. 'Is that something to do with Maizie too?' She wasn't sure she should remind him about his reluctance on that front, but she was seeing the cat with new eyes. She wondered if his reasons also had to do with the sad story of the lost wife.

'Well, I can't say I'm happy about it. But then I look down at this broken down world every morning, at this broken down _universe_ , and think, what have the Kai done for us lately? We've been neglected for twenty years, and now I know that's not just a feeling, it's true! There's no Guardian on Kami's Lookout. No-one looking out for us from Heaven. Each other is all we have – me, you, Trunks, even you Vegeta I suppose…Forget the Kai. We must do what is best for _this_ world.'

* * *

Bulma painted the machine that morning. All the external panelling was in place. She was tempted to leave it unpainted, but then if their plan went pear-shaped and they were stuck anywhere for a period of time the machine would be vulnerable to corrosion.

Sixteen and Eighteen opened the overhead hanger doors again and stood on the lip observing the activity below. She and Vegeta did the fiddly job of masking the domes and other small parts that shouldn't be painted, then both donned respirators for the actual spray painting. Bulma painted, going up and down the ladder numerous times and holding the spray gun and canister and air compressor hose at various awkward angles until her arms and shoulders were screaming with exhaustion.

'How does this thing work?' said Vegeta, plucking it out of her hands eventually. She showed him, and he finished the task, doing a pretty decent job. When she saw how much easier and faster it was for him floating up and down and not needing the step ladder she got annoyed that he hadn't volunteered earlier.

Then she set him to task drying the paint with his chi. Vegeta scowled at her and complained that he was not a tool to be deployed like a hairdryer, but he did it anyway, once he got the hang of holding handfuls of chi at the correct temperature.

Bulma stood back and took in the overall effect of the paint job on the time machine. She'd gotten the paint from a factory that used to manufacture military equipment. Since stealth was the name of their rescue mission she'd picked a super-matte gunmetal grey. Not that it mattered much when the cloaking device was online, but you never knew. Of all the three time machines she'd seen, this one was the largest and most businesslike. It looked mean.

After lunch she decided to power up the internal electronics for the first time. It didn't go well.

Most of the electronics were in place already, minus the cloaking device, the time drive and the terrestrial navigation system which she hadn't built yet. She spent the first hour going over the connections and the fuses. Then she plugged in the power cord from the lab supply and switched it on.

All seemed well at first. She sat in the cockpit, examining diagnostic readouts on her laptop. When she began to poke around the interface for the time jumps though she noticed some disturbing patterns of power draw, which was odd, as it wasn't even working hard. Playing it safe she pulled the fuse from the computer, intending to get out and unplug the machine, but as soon as she did so an electrical pop sounded behind the dashboard, and then the unmistakable stink of fried circuits reached her nose.

'Shit!'

She leapt out of the cockpit, calling out as she went 'Pull the plug, pull the plug!' She heard another pop behind her and jumped the rest of the way down the step ladder to see Vegeta pull the plug out the underside of the machine.

'Shit!' she swore again. What the hell went wrong? And what was that second pop? 'I thought you said you could move instantly?' she snapped at Vegeta. 'Why did it take you so long to pull the power lead out?'

Vegeta's face, which had been worried now closed up with anger. 'It took me a fraction of a second! And most of that was spent trying to figure out what you were gabbering.'

Bulma stamped her foot in frustration and went back up to examine the damage.

The computer that controlled the hoverjets to was burnt out, overloaded by a power surge when she'd pulled out the fuse for the time jump interface. When she investigated it's fuse she found it hadn't blown. It was a .25amp fuse, but now that she looked at it closely she realised that it wasn't, it looked more like a .5amp fuse. It was mislabelled.

'How the fuck did that happen? Argh!'

She removed the dead circuits from their racks and stamped back down the step ladder, storming past Vegeta and forcing him to follow her into the lab to begin repairs.

'What did you screw up?' he said.

'What did _I_ screw up?' she echoed rounding on him. ' _I_ didn't screw up anything! _I_ am the best technologist on the planet! _I_ didn't mislabel a fuse like the knuckle dragger in the fucking factory. But if you think you can do better, by all means have at it!'

He looked back at her flatly. 'Quit it with the temper tantrums, Woman!'

'Temper tantrums? You insufferable, insulting jerk!'

'Shut it! I can't get away from your senseless histrionics! Do us both a favour and do what you need to do without the meltdown.'

Bulma let out a wordless shriek of temper which made Vegeta bare his teeth at her.

Seething, she sat down to fix it, not sure why she was so angry. She just knew she was angry with Vegeta and herself. She hated him right now. But she hated herself too.

Fixing it took her more than an hour, but when she was done she congratulated herself on actually improving it from the first prototype. Her smile died on her lips. She felt sad.

When she rooted through the box of fuses she couldn't find one of the right size and rating. She almost cried. She went through the box one fuse at a time just to be sure.

'No! I can't believe I don't have one!'

'What does that mean?' said Vegeta quietly.

'It means…' She didn't want to go searching for more crap in rubble. She just wanted this to be over already. 'It means I'm going to look and see if something in the kitchen has the right fuse I can swipe.'

She stripped the blender and the microwave and finally struck gold in the dishwasher control panel. Fine, no dishwasher anymore. Her knees ached from squatting on the floor, and she groaned as she stood, a groan that turned into a yawn. She saw the bottle of scotch on the kitchen bench in front of her and was sorely tempted to pour herself one.

'It's nearly time to go to Korin's' said Vegeta. 'Why don't you take a break for once?'

Bulma closed her eyes, imagining how good that would feel. 'Alright.'

Vegeta opened the fridge. 'Is there nothing to drink besides water?' he asked.

'You could make some tea or coffee,' she said, knowing that he didn't drink much of either. She poured herself a couple of fingers of scotch in a glass she found handily on the bench. 'I'm going to have some of this.'

She sipped the amber liquid, letting its heat burn it's way down her throat and blossom in her stomach, it's honey and smoke flavours nearly overpowering. She closed her eyes at the simple pleasure of having something _good_ for once and took another sip. Suddenly the glass was snatched out of her hand.

'Hey!' she said as Vegeta gulped it back in one and then proceeded to cough and splutter. 'Get your own whisky! Now I need another glass!' She held out her hand for the glass, but he swept around her.

'I'll get it for you,' he said.

'Well good, it's the least you could do,' she said, puzzling at his odd behaviour. As he opened the bottle he fumbled it and the bottle tumbled to the ground, smashing on the kitchen floor, spraying glass and whisky everywhere.

'No! Why did you do that?' she cried, rooted to the spot and not wanting to believe that the whisky was gone. No more whisky.

'It was an accident, Woman!'

'Accident! You're the fastest thing on two legs - you could have easily caught it!'

'Alcohol slows the reflexes.'

'You had one dram!' She began to cry, realising that the fiery finish in her mouth was likely the last time she would ever taste good whisky.

'I don't believe it Woman! Why are you crying over a spilt beverage?'

'You don't understand,' she wailed. 'I'll never see whisky that good _ever_ again!'

He growled. 'So what? It's bad for you anyway. I just did you a favour.'

'Who died and made you my personal life coach?' She bubbled over into tears again.

He rolled his eyes. 'Pathetic.'

They spent all the time until dinner picking up broken glass and mopping the floor. When they finally arrived at Korin's they were late, stinking of scotch and not talking to each other.

* * *

They slept in the hangar again. Vegeta brought the sofa from her office in and put it against the wall with the mattress along side it. Bulma slept on the couch.

* * *

It had to happen sometime.

They needed to test the hoverjets and associated systems. Bulma had wound the jets up towards lift off speed, but to test them properly would require someone to spot the machine in case it failed. Bulma couldn't fly it because she had to be able to monitor the way it was performing. Vegeta couldn't fly it because he needed to stay on the ground with her. Sixteen couldn't fly it because he was too massive to fit in the cockpit. Which left Eighteen. Eighteen was amused to be asked, but Bulma wasn't happy about it. She didn't like putting her invention in the hands of her one of her former worst enemies, who, besides that, was someone to whom the machine itself didn't mean much.

She had to get closer to Eighteen than she'd ever been before to teach her how to fly the thing. All Eighteen had to do was go up, slowly, stop before the wires that tethered it to the lab went taught, hold it level for a few minutes and then come down again. Sixteen would spot the machine. Vegeta would scowl and cool his heels on Bulma-patrol inside the hangar.

It was a windy day. As the machine left the hangar it rocked in the breeze. Eighteen had trouble holding it steady in the air.

'That's high enough, Eighteen,' Bulma said into the com unit, eyeing the amount of slack left in the power lead and the thinner wire going into her laptop.

'Hold it steady now.' She was starting to regret not checking the weather above before starting this test as the time machine bopped and swayed. Normally it wouldn't matter, but with the tether it was risky. She was getting heartening data though.

'Bring it down now, Eighteen, slowly.'

Eighteen powered down the jets, but too fast. She dropped, and the strong gust of wind caught her, carrying the machine out of view above the hangar door. Bulma stared, her heart in the throat. Eighteen instantly over corrected, pulling up, and the power supply cord went tight. Sixteen leapt out of sight, presumably to correct the course of the craft, while Vegeta leapt to his feet ready to intervene, rushing closer into the middle of the hangar to see what was going on. Bulma was about to follow him when she realised that the cord was still not disconnecting from the machine. It was under terrible strain, going through the door to the lab at head height. The other end of the cord was screwed into the main fusebox in the lab, and through the windows she saw the glass front of the fusebox shatter as it flexed. What if it ripped the whole power board out of the wall?

'Vegeta get the cord out of the machine!' she yelled.

Vegeta looked at her once, then back up through the hangar doors, made a decision and leapt into the air just as the machine swung back into view, towed by Sixteen. Vegeta had only been distracted from her for a couple of seconds, but that was all it took.

With relief Bulma saw the slack return to the power cord, and was about to turn back to the boys grappling with the machine when she felt a strange sensation behind her, a like large balloon bursting, but with an almost silent pop. Instinctively she pitched herself forward, flipping herself over the instant she hit the floor. The Eastern Supreme Kai stood over her with a look of determination on his face, his hand outstretched as if he was offering benediction, when really she knew his touch was meant to paralyse her, abduct her, or worse.

She scrambled backwards until her back hit the wall, screaming as the Kai came after her. To her very great relief he was halted in his progress by Vegeta's arm wrapped around his middle. The Kai yelped and then his purple skinned face began turning pink as Vegeta started to squeeze the life out of him. Bulma could see Vegeta's face over the Kai's shoulder. He hadn't even powered up to Super Saiyan yet. His ugly expression was wrathful.

'You've done it now, Kai, I'm going to kill you this time!'

The Kai gasped and choked out 'So – _you_ think!'

He touched Vegeta's arm and the Saiyan froze, his wrath changing to shock. The Kai began to struggle free in earnest while Vegeta strained against the invisible binding. She could see that he could move a little, but probably not enough to keep hold of the Kai.

'You made the mistake of letting _me_ get my hands on you long enough to trap you,' said the Kai sternly.

Bulma took this opportunity to run, around the two to the time machine where Eighteen was leaping out of the cockpit. 'Help him!' she screamed at the blonde girl, but Eighteen was already on her way, aiming a flying kick that took down both Vegeta and the Kai and smashed them through the hangar wall and windows into the med lab. Bulma found herself clinging to Sixteen's arm. The big android looked down at her with alarm and concern. Suddenly Vegeta emerged from the wreckage, with the Kai gripped by the foot, and swung him around and up, clipping the edge of the mostly open hangar door and tearing the four inch thick steel outwards. The Kai kept on going, lost out of sight for now.

Eighteen ran from the lab also, looking around. Vegeta powered up to Super Saiyan and zeroed in on Bulma, plucking her from Sixteen's side. His arm was like a band of steel around her middle, and for a moment she wondered if he'd forgotten that he wasn't meant to be killing her.

'He's still up there,' he yelled at Eighteen. Then he turned to Sixteen. 'Stay with the machine.'

Eighteen took off and Vegeta followed, Bulma clutched to his side. The Kai materialised in front of Eighteen, landing her a solid blow that carried her away before she halted her trajectory and came back snarling. They traded a rapid series of blows and kicks before the Kai brought his hands together and hit her in the stomach with a massive blast of chi. It knocked her out of the sky, and she crash landed somewhere in the ruins of West City. Bulma knew it wouldn't keep her down long, but in the meantime Vegeta moved in.

'Enough!' screamed the Kai. He backed away as Vegeta flew towards him. 'I wish to talk to Bulma!'

'You've got a funny way of opening a conversation then!' yelled Bulma. She could hear Vegeta breathing in her ear, hard and hissing like a bellows. He was mad, or scared, or both.

'We're not interested!' he said, advancing on the Kai again.

Bulma saw the Kai's expression flicker with fear as he backed off further. She knew he would just disappear the moment Vegeta got close enough.

'No, wait, I want to hear what he has to say!' she said, trying to catch Vegeta's eye, but he wouldn't take his eyes of the Kai. He growled softly.

'Foolish Woman, what can he possibly say that would be any help to hear?'

'We'll never know unless we listen!' To the Kai she called out 'Say what you came to say.'

The Kai relaxed a little. 'Have you made your decision?'

'Have I what?' Bulma laughed disbelievingly. 'You're come here to ask me that? Do you think we'd still be trying to finish the machine if I was willing to take either choice?'

'I know very well that you don't _want_ either choice. Nevertheless, eventually we will catch you, and when we do your preference will be taken into consideration.'

He said this with such calm certainty that fear gripped her anew.

'Which is it to be Bulma?'

'I don't know! I'm not going to answer you!'

'Don't you know? Don't be so coy. I think deep down you _have_ made your decision.'

'He's playing head games with you, Bulma!' said Vegeta, but she ignored him, wanting to know what the Kai thought she'd decided. She was getting a cold feeling, an unpleasant one.

'What do you mean?'

'I mean…well, you've been having a fine old time with Vegeta here. You're already pregnant.'

'I'm WHAT?'

Vegeta snarled. 'Beat it Kai, before I beat you!' He jumped forward again and the Kai danced away.

'Does that knowledge help you make up your mind, Bulma? Perhaps, rather than risking the future of your unborn child, you'd like to turn yourself in to us?'

'No! And I'm not pregnant!' she yelled back. 'How would you know?'

The Kai laughed. 'I've had eons of experience watching every manner of being in the universe. I think I know a pregnant woman when I see one!'

'You're lying!' Oh god, he must be lying! Over his shoulder she could see Eighteen hurtling back at him, pulling her fist back to deal him a lethal blow.

'A Kaioshin never lies. Shall I put you down for option number two then?'

With a cry Eighteen arrived on the spot where Kibito-Kai had floated, but he was gone. She tumbled head over heels with the momentum of the punch that never landed.

'That slippery purple pretty-boy, he's done it again!' she said. 'How am I supposed to fight someone who keeps disappearing?'

Bulma had no thought to spare for Eighteen's frustrations. She felt faint and ill.

'Put me down, Vegeta!' she begged him. He was staring fixedly at the ground, his face rigid and unreadable. 'Please!'

The warm flicker of his super Saiyan form left him, leaving the cold wind to pull at her as he swooped back into the hangar. The moment her feet touched the ground she took off running, back to the bedroom where she kept a little calendar with her monthly cycles marked on it, not that they were that regular these days. She was breathing heavily, gasping at air.

'My period isn't even due for another three days. Do you think the Kai was telling the truth?' she said to Vegeta, who had followed her in. He looked stunned, broken. He stared at her, taking seconds to process her words.

'If the Kai says it's true it must be true,' he said in a hoarse voice.

Bulma felt herself lose her grip on everything for a second, including her lunch. She ran back out the door, shoving Vegeta back out the doorway, and turned the corner into the toilet. She fell rubber-kneed in front of the bowl and vomited.

For a minute or so she was distracted by her retching, and then the cool, rational part of her brain observed _This can't be morning sickness, it's too early. It's probably shock. You should lie down, maybe have some tea with honey._

'I can't be pregnant,' she said aloud, still spitting saliva into the bowl. 'I'm too old. It'll kill me. Either that or I'll miscarry.' At that last word her stomach heaved again, though there was nothing really left to bring up.

Vegeta made some noise of distress behind her, some kind of strangled gasp.

'You're not that old. Only two or three years older than when the Bulma in my timeline fell pregnant with Bra.'

'And how did that go for her? I bet that wasn't an easy pregnancy and birth, even with all the medical mod cons that we don't have any more.' She took some deep breaths but they didn't help. She leant against the wall, then slid down it, feeling the world going dark around her.

'Woman?' he said, crouching down beside her. 'Bulma?' He grasped her by the arms and she sagged back into him, unable to control herself anymore. She sprawled with her head against his shoulder. Someone was breathing raggedly, close to tears. Her, she supposed. Just breathe, she told herself. Just keep breathing.

After a minute or two the blackness receded again, and in its place was reason. She couldn't be more than eight or nine days pregnant. Maybe this pregnancy would never even get off the ground. Maybe in three days her period would appear as if nothing happened. And if not, she was not completely bereft of options, risky although some of them were. She began to come to herself.

She recalled Vegeta's odd behaviour with the whisky the day before. 'You knew didn't you?' she croaked, her throat sore from retching.

Vegeta cleared his throat. 'I suspected only.'

She snorted. 'Well I suspected nothing. I shouldn't even be able to get pregnant! I'm too old!'

'I've heard that one before.'

'I thought it would have taken a miracle.'

She sat up straight suddenly.

_I can do it as easy as this!_

She remembered the Supreme Kai clicking his fingers, offering to trade one child for the chance of another. She stumbled away from Vegeta, into the bathroom, grasping the bathroom basin for support while she looked, _really_ looked at herself in the mirror.

And now that she opened her mind to the possibility, there was no denying what she saw.

No more flattering herself, telling herself she looked thirty five when she actually just looked good for her age. No - now she _actually_ looked as she did when she was thirty five. Possibly even younger. The crow's feet were gone, just fine lines in their place. The lines either side of her mouth were shallowed out. She lifted her hair and saw that the lines across her forehead were almost completely gone – just a hint of what they might be one day. Even her hands were smoother, some of the freckles gone. Her cheeks rounding out and the filling in of her curves had not just been due to good eating after all.

The fucking Kai had gone and made her young!

Or not young precisely, but young enough. Young enough to give her a fighting chance of carrying this child to term if she wanted to. She'd thought the Kai meant that he could make her fertile again, not that he just _had_ with the click of his fingers.

So now she had a real decision on her hands. Did she want this child?

She could see Vegeta in the mirror, sitting on the edge of the bathtub, head in his hands. He was in despair. Well, he could be in despair or hysterics or a song and dance mood and it wouldn't matter. In two days he'd been gone. This was her decision alone.

Something burning and bright cracked it's way out of her heart. She couldn't even put a name to it. Her eyes looked wild in the mirror, staring out of her pale face.

Would it be hard to raise a child in this wilderness with just a teenaged son to help? Yes! Would it be dangerous delivering one in this bombed-back-to-the-stone-age place? Without a doubt! Was she scared? Hell yes! But did she want this child? Her daughter? Her daughter at last?

'I'm sorry, Woman,' said Vegeta behind her, his voice thick and choking. 'I'm so sorry. I told you we were fools, but even I didn't think this would happen.'

'The Supreme Kai did something to me, the first time he abducted me, didn't he?' she said, watching Vegeta's reaction in the mirror.

Without raising his head he replied. 'Yes, but I wasn't sure what.'

'Well he made me younger. I'm surprised you didn't notice.'

That brought his head up. His eyes were red. Had he actually been crying? His eyes bore into her, moving up and down her body. He snorted in grim amusement. 'So he did. I thought you smelt younger, but I assumed I imagined it.'

She gave him a shaky smile in the mirror. 'So, my chances of survival just went way up.'

She saw Vegeta try to smile, but the expression trembled, turning bitter and upside-down before crumbling entirely. He hid his face in his hands again, and his whole body shook with what was undeniably a sob.

Her heart twisted up in her chest at the sight. As far as she knew, Vegeta had never cried except when he told Goku the tale of his planet's destruction by Frieza. Her Vegeta had always dismissed her tears as moments of weakness and lack of control. Damn, he was going to make her cry too, just when she'd found something to be happy about. She turned around and stepped over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

'Hey, don't be sorry!' she said, smiling, even as tears came to her eyes. 'I'm not sorry. I'm going to have a daughter!'

He sobbed again, harder, losing out to tears. He put his arms around her legs and pressed his face against them. God damn it, he _was_ making her cry! She stroked a hand though his hair, something she would never have dared to do even a week ago. Idiot Vegeta! Why the hell was she feeling sorry for _him?_

He pulled her down into his lap, wrapped his arms around her and turned his face into her shoulder. She let him, unresisting. And then she felt the sharp needle of heartbreak enter her, pierce her chest, and push aside the happy thoughts of only a moment before. Relentless as it sank in, tearing her apart. She was going to lose him again, and the grief of it loomed, working the needle, making her bleed.

She couldn't breath properly, she couldn't survive this! A familiar panic rolled over her. She didn't know how she would live through this loss.

Just as familiar, the cool dispassionate part of her reassured her. _You will Bulma. Just like you lived through all the other loses._

She cried and cried, letting out the pain the only way she knew how, wishing to be out the other side of this grief already, wishing to be at peace and content with the world and her new daughter, and not struggling to keep breathing past her sobs as the deadbeat absentee father-to-be wetted her lab coat with his tears. Because even though he was _leaving her again,_ she still loved him.

She spoke between sobs and clenched teeth.

'You - fucking - bastard.'


	29. The Champion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Okay, my chapter buffer is down to zero. I am still writing the next chapter, so things may now slow up. I totally regret my chapter posting splurge earlier on when I was posting up to four chapters a day. I might not have run out by now if I hadn't done that.

When they showed at Korin's, late for dinner, pinked-eyed and cried-out he took one look at their faces and gasped 'What's happened?'

'Nothing serious,' said Bulma, in a voice that shook a little. 'You don't mind if we don't stay tonight do you?'

Korin passed over bowls of crab curry. 'It's not quite cold yet.' He folded his arms, observing the way the two moved around each other; a slow and awkward dance where neither partner would raise their eyes to the other. 'How long did you say it was until the time machine is done?'

'Two days most likely.'

Korin shook his head. 'You're a couple of prize morons, you are.'

* * *

Vegeta was in freefall. He thought he had been at the bottom of a hole, but ever since the Kai confirmed his worst suspicion the ground had opened up and dropped him. Like his fall into hell, he had no idea how low he could go until he got there.

They started to clean up the worst of the mess that they'd made of the med lab. It was a write off. The Woman moved through the work of the evening like a zombie, slow and shuffling and numb. He stared at her, not sure how she was still going after the Kai's news. She was going to have his daughter. How could he leave her now?

Their misery was so obvious that even Sixteen and Eighteen asked them if they were okay. The androids took turns guarding the machine and helping them clean up. Eighteen said sorry for losing control of the time machine. She was a fast learner. Her redemption had been so simple, and he was very glad he'd made the effort. These final days would be almost impossible without both her and Sixteen.

The Woman smiled and thanked her for attempting to murder the Kai, which pleased Eighteen. She didn't seem to know what the Kai had revealed. One look at Sixteen had told him that _he_ did know – they were right over the hangar when the Kai had made his revelation, he must've been in earshot - but Sixteen kept his peace, merely looking back at him with concern. Pity from an artificial human – a curious new humiliation.

The Woman bumped into lab furniture, stared for long moments at tools without picking one. He couldn't understand why she wasn't fighting this more. Why wasn't she more angry? Angry with him? Why wasn't she screaming at him that he was a cad to put her in this situation? Why wasn't she telling him he was a heartless bounder to leave her like this? He wanted her to. He _was_ a cad. How _could_ he leave her?

As they got ready for bed he tried to put his finger on the essential difference between her and the woman he'd left behind. His mate had had a never-say-die attitude. It wasn't that this Woman lacked the spark, or fire, or the vitriol of the other. She had all that. It wasn't like she wasn't trying with everything she had - he suspected she was putting in an effort that his mate could never match over the long run. She'd learnt how to go longer and faster on less. She must've had to.

He almost suggested that they go back to the bedroom instead of the hanger, as it was obvious that Eighteen and Sixteen together _could_ handle the Kai, but he wasn't sure what message that would send. He wasn't sure what message he wanted it to send. As they rolled themselves in blankets in the hangar – she on the sofa, he on the mattress - she paused to look at the time machine, lit by a shaft of moonlight from the tear he'd made by throwing the Kai through the hangar door. Vegeta thought that this particular time machine design was foreboding. His own shiny black one with its red leather upholstery looked like a toy in comparison. This one looked like a weapon. It reminded him of a machine that Time Patroller Trunks had sometimes used. He wondered if the different machines had different uses and specialties.

'We're so close to finishing,' she said. 'I'm terrified that it's all going to slip out of our fingers at the eleventh hour. We've been too lucky so far. I'm waiting for the axe to fall.'

He looked at her, incredulous. 'If this is good luck, what is bad?'

She shrugged. 'Worse,' she said simply.

As she settled her head on her pillow and closed her eyes he wondered if that was it. The Bulma of his timeline had been in countless scrapes and witnessed her entire world threatened a dozen times or more, and she'd always come out on the winning side. She had…faith in the universe, in herself, in her friends. Maybe she didn't even know how to lose. This one though…

She knew how to lose all right. She'd lost and lost and kept on losing, and now defeat and grief were what she expected. Victory was the exception, not the rule. He supposed that was also the essential difference between his own son and the one who had come back in time to help them fight the androids. He still felt a twinge of guilt at the thought of the Boy From the Future. He'd treated him terribly. He had been jealous of the boy's early rise to Super Saiyan form, and contemptuous of his anxiety and caution. At the time he'd thought it was because he'd been raised soft by a woman instead of properly, like a warrior, but now he knew better. He'd been raised by this place, this forsaken reality, and it wasn't a soft upbringing by any stretch. The anxiety and caution came from the way this place taught a person to expect to worst.

Vegeta knew a thing or two about loss and defeat though. He couldn't count the times he'd been defeated, and had he not lost everything? Twice?

Sad though Trunks's childhood must've been in this world, there was no comparing it to the fire he'd passed through as a young prince. In a small span of time he'd lost his freedom, his father, his inheritance, his planet, his race and his dignity. He felt the familiar fire burning in his stomach at the memories of that injustice. Had there ever been another child to have so much and lose so much?

He pushed those thoughts down, biting back his anger. No good would come of stewing over that time now. It was all dead and gone.

To distract himself he opened his eyes and looked at her again. She was on the edge of the sofa, her face still turned towards the machine. Her arm trailed down and her hand rested on the mattress besides him. She was snoring gently. Turning the other way he could see, on the other side of the hangar, Eighteen wrapped in a blanket, also asleep, and Sixteen standing like a statue next to her. It turned out that one of the reasons Eighteen had been going home each night was to sleep. She needed at least a few hours each night, although not as much as a normal human. Who knew cyborgs slept? Not he, and he'd known Eighteen for decades in his own timeline. He supposed it made sense though, if she had an organic brain like Bulma said she did.

Sixteen saw him looking over and silently crossed the floor to him. Vegeta stood up, not liking to be hulked over by an eight foot robot.

'I heard what the Kai told you,' Sixteen said quietly in his flat toned voice.

Vegeta felt his hackles rise. Just the conversation he didn't want to have! 'I guessed you did. However, I _really_ don't wish to talk of it with a nosy bucket of bolts.'

Sixteen made a grumbling noise of disapproval.

'Your plan is to recreate your lost timeline?'

'What did I just say?' Sixteen just continued to look back at him, so he answered anyway, hoping to brush him off quickly. 'Yes, it was.'

'So you are never going to truly return to your family?'

Vegeta looked at him with astonishment. The audacity of the robot questioning him at a time like this! He remembered Sixteen being brave, but perhaps he was just stupid? And the answer to his question was the distasteful truth. He made a face. 'No. It's impossible.'

Sixteen had his heavy orange eyebrows lowered. 'I do not think it's right that you should leave her here like this.'

'I'm not going to, alright!' Vegeta felt breathless as the words left his lips. He hadn't even known he was going to say them. He didn't think he'd made that decision yet – he hadn't even admitted to himself that he was considering abandoning his original plan. 'I'm staying. We'll get her boy back, and that'll be the end of it. No more time travel!'

Bulma stirred in her sleep at the sound of Vegeta's outburst, but slept on. Sixteen's frown softened out into a smile.

'She will be a lot happier with that I think. I do not like to see my friends upset.'

'Get lost, you great lump of moralising metal!' said Vegeta, throwing himself back down on the mattress. 'Some of us actually have to sleep!' Sixteen turned away, still smiling and Vegeta closed his eyes and lay still.

But he wasn't sleeping; he was drowning in the consequences of the decision he'd just splurted out prematurely to Sixteen. He has an awful growing sense that it was the right decision. The better moral decision. Even the maths was against the stupid scheme he'd been pursuing. If he followed through with it there would be one happy family and two heartbroken, fatherless ones. If he stayed here there would be one happy family and only one heartbroken Bulma and set of fatherless kids.

But if he admitted that staying was the right thing to do he would also have to admit that all these years careening backwards and forwards through time, breaking stuff every step of the way was all for naught, all for a fool's quest so that he wouldn't have to face the grief that he'd had a family he loved and he'd lost them all forever with one selfish, thoughtless act.

He knew what Kakarott would have done if he'd been lost from his own timeline. He would've accepted what had happened immediately, and set about making himself useful and making new friends wherever he found himself. What had Vegeta done? He'd fought the truth for fifteen years, lived friendless and nomadic and become a fugitive from the protectors of the universe. Kakarott could hardly write his own name but he was still the wiser of the two of them. It made him sick to his stomach.

And now that he'd gone and created _this_ mess, to run again would be an even more egregious act. He could be useful _here_. He was needed _here_. He loved this Bulma, the same as he loved his old mate. They were the same. How could he leave her just to create another Bulma to live with? He couldn't. That was idiocy. If he still went through with this plan he didn't even know how he could look his replacement family in the face without feeling the shame of leaving her like this, leaving her Trunks, leaving another child, another daughter here.

Bra. His little Daddy's girl. The difficult teenager. He'd never see her again.

A crushing weight bore down on him, so unbearable he clutched his chest, curling his legs up around the pain. How? How? How did one let go?

For the second time today he found himself shaking with tears. He turned himself over, trying to drown it in the mattress. He remembered the day he'd scored their names in the plexiglass dome of the time machine, on a day when he thought it all hopeless, when he thought he'd never get back to them, and he'd written that to keep him going. He'd thought that _that_ day had been hard.

_Bulma…Trunks…Bra…goodbye._

* * *

It was a long night, and he didn't sleep much of it. He was fairly positive that he'd woken the Woman up with the unmanly noise he was making but he was too far gone to care. She didn't say anything though, and for that he was glad. This pain was all his own.

* * *

Bulma woke worn out already, feeling fuzzy headed. Or perhaps fuzzy hearted. She felt numb and cynical. Vegeta was asleep at last, and she let him sleep on, trying to get all the work done that she could within a five yard radius of him. Sixteen and Eighteen congregated on her like nervous children.

'What the hell was that about?' asked Eighteen, inclining her head to Vegeta's prone body. So he had obviously woken her too with his racket.

'I have no idea.' said Bulma, pretending nonchalance, but losing it to bitterness when she added 'Maybe he's finally waking up and smelling the coffee.'

'There is no coffee brewing right now,' said Sixteen.

Eighteen scoffed. 'It's an expression, you dork!'

Sixteen caught her eye and smiled. Bulma stared back at him, not in the mood for smiles. What was his problem?

She got Eighteen to fetch her some things she had scattered around the electronics lab and her laptop. She began work on the navigation system. Currently there was no way to know where the machine was in terrestrial terms except by sight. After an hour or so Vegeta stirred. He looked like crap, but Bulma found that today she didn't have as much tolerance for his self pity.

'We're late for breakfast,' she said.

He didn't raise his head, merely reached out an arm for her. 'Let's go then.'

After breakfast and showers and other trivial routines of the morning she shifted focus to the cloaking device. She finished the housing and most of the internals, and it was now time to install the magnet in the garden. The androids opened the hangar doors again but Bulma preferred the old fashioned way of getting up there. She took her electronics toolkit and the cloaking unit up the stairs. Vegeta followed like a stray puppy. Or a whipped dog. She pulled a face. She was going to have to stop with the dog metaphors. Both of those implied too much sympathy with the subject.

Working on the cloaking device though got the first spark out of her that day. It was tricky, and satisfyingly complicated and a little bit dangerous. When she thought she had all the pieces assembled correctly she felt a thrill of excitement. She closed up the housing, connected a variable wattage battery to the thing, stood back and turned it on.

The cloaking device disappeared.

'Woo-hoo!'

Even Vegeta came out of his coma for this one. 'I take it that disappearing indicates success? Well done, Woman!'

'You are correct!' They were the first words they'd exchanged since he'd woken up.

He went over and patted the area where the battery had been, which was now just a slightly blurry patch of grass. His hand hit the solid thing.

'Hold it there,' she told him.

'Huh?'

She turned the wattage up until he disappeared. Bulma laughed.

'What are you laughing at, Woman?' he grumbled.

'I made you invisible!'

'Is that why everything seemed to get suddenly dimmer?'

'Yes. You see, that's what I could never work out with my cloaking device. The field is cast over the surface of the objects it touches, and it's carried better the more conductive the surface is. Upping the wattage increases the range and the penetration. So I set it low and get just the metal housing.' She did, and he reappeared, apparently touching empty air. 'Then I turn it up to the point that it conducts across your skin, and you disappear again, and so does some of the grass. And then if I turn it way up,' which she did, 'I disappear inside it also.' Suddenly she was inside the invisible boundaries of the field, and it seemed as if she was seeing the world through tinted sunglasses. She could see Vegeta and the unit perfectly well inside.

'When I tried building one, I could get the field part right – light hits the field, slides across it until it finds the same angle that it incidented the field at, and leaves again, giving the illusion that it's passed straight through, rather than gone around. But I couldn't figure out how to let whoever was inside the field see out. No light was penetrating it.' Vegeta was sitting with his chin in his hand, a look of polite interest on his face. 'But you see, ah…the other…me worked it out. And it's quite simple really; I'd have thought of it eventually. This field only deflects about eighty percent of the light. Then it amplifies the waves getting through dramatically, and the ones with are deflected slightly. See?'

'Yes, yes, Woman, you are a genius,' he said shaking his head and smiling. 'That's already been well established.'

She folded her arms smugly. 'Glad to hear you acknowledge it.'

His tolerant smile was gone the next instant though, and he jumped up and snatched her hand. Heart hammering, she flowed his gaze up into the sky and saw the thing she dreaded. Kibito Kai was suspended in the air only forty yards away, scanning the area with his eyes. It seemed like the cloaking device was working, when suddenly his eyes snapped right to them.

'Very clever,' he called. 'But it won't work. I can see your energies quite clearly.'

Vegeta growled, and Bulma, believing the Kai this time, turned the cloaking device off and bundled it close to herself to protect it.

'I'm not coming any closer,' he said. 'And I'll make no attempt to fight you. It's clear that I don't have any way around you, Vegeta. So this time I brought someone to help me.'

Another figure appeared, further away, right in front of the sun. Bulma strained to see, but Vegeta gasped and fell to his knees.

'What is it?' she said, her panic spilling over as she saw the shock in his eyes.

Vegeta just stared open mouthed at the figure that was now floating slowly closer.

'Vegeta!' She shook his shoulder hard and he barely moved a fraction of an inch, but she got his attention. He turned wide eyes on her.

'I can't win this fight.'

Bulma felt her breath go out of her. 'Of course you can! You're the strongest thing in the universe!'

He shook his head and laughed. 'He's not from _this_ universe! I can't beat him, I accepted that many years ago!'

'Then…it's all over? You have to try!'

He laughed again in a way that chilled her blood. 'I'll _try_ all right! Woman, I can't win against him, but I might be able to hold out long enough for you to finish the time machine. Do it, take the machine and find your boy!'

She gaped at him, cold horror spreading through her. He was as pale as she felt, but he stood up again and began laughing louder, as if the figure drifting out of the sky had just told a great joke. She could see the person clearer now. They wore an orange outfit and their dark hair stuck out in unlikely spikes.

'Oh my God! Goku!' Her heart leapt with joy at the sight – Goku, not dead anymore! And then she realised he was here to destroy Vegeta and the time machine and possibly her also. 'Oh my God, GOKU, NO!'

He friend touched down lightly in the long grass, smiling like he was dropping in for tea. He looked not much older than when she'd last seen him, gasping his last breaths on his deathbed.

'Hey Bulma! Hey Vegeta!'

'Kakarott, my old friend. The Supreme Kai couldn't have picked a better champion.'

Bulma's eye was caught by movement over by the hangar entrance. Eighteen had emerged, and now she targeted the Kai, blasting him right off the bat with double fistfuls of blue energy. The Kai evaded her but she seemed to anticipate his direction and got in a lightning fast kick that knocked him high above them.

'Eighteen get over here!' roared Vegeta.

Eighteen landed and ran to them, right past Goku. When she got to them though, she frowned and turned back.

'Who is that…?'

Vegeta grabbed her by the shirt lapels and shook her. 'Don't look at him! It doesn't matter who he is! Get Bulma below and you and Sixteen defend her and the machine until she's finished it, got it?'

'But what about the Kai guy?'

'Don't worry, you'll get your fight - he'll come to you! Now GO!'

Eighteen's face showed only cool excitement as she grabbed Bulma under the shoulders, lifting her away.

Bulma tried to turn, trying to keep her eyes on Vegeta and Goku facing each other in the wasteland of her mother's garden.

'No!' she screamed. 'Don't hurt him!' She couldn't have said right then which man she was talking to.

As they dropped over the edge of the open hangar she heard a sound like a thunderclap behind her. The fight had already started.

* * *

Vegeta saw the Kai racing back, straight at the backs of the retreating women. He moved to intervene, getting himself between them and swinging a blow at the Kai. Goku was there instead, and Vegeta's blow smashed into the other Saiyan's forearm with a resounding crack that rolled around the compound and echoed back from the ruined skyscrapers of West City. He didn't know from which universe or even plane of existence the Kai had dug Kakarott up from, but he was at least as strong as the last time he'd seen him as an adult.

Goku's other hand rested on the Kai's chest, holding him away from harm, but also out of the way. The smaller purple man blinked in surprise – he hadn't seen Vegeta's attack coming.

'You know, I thought that hunting the Supreme Kai wasn't your style anymore Vegeta.'

'Who's hunting who?' he growled back at him. Then he said to Kibito-Kai 'Leave the Woman out of it!'

'I can't Vegeta! Any more than you've left her out of it!'

'I'll stay! I'll abandon my plan! Just don't harm her!'

'I'm glad to hear it but I can't-'

'We'll get her son back at that will be it.'

'No! No more time travel!'

'Then if we don't? If we just stay?'

'The time for bargaining is over Vegeta! The other Supreme Kai are all in agreement on this, and even if I were to disagree with them it no longer matters! One way or another, you and Bulma Briefs are going to the Next World. Today!'

Gods no! And yet, it wasn't all over for her, not if he could help it. 'Not if I put you there first!' breathed Vegeta. He made a grab around Goku, which of course the man blocked. It had not been a serious attempt, he only wanted to frighten the Kai away. It worked.

He looked his opponent in the face, and then felt a rising excitement despite himself. His own thought from two nights before returned to him – without a family his only goal left was a fight to the death with Kakarott. If he wasn't going to get his first wish to stay with his family, well at least he'd get his second wish.

A smile spread across his face and was reflected on Kakarott's.

'Now the imp is gone…why'd you come here Kakarott?'

'I came here to fight.'

'So then, let's fight!'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Got something to say? Leave a review and let me know! Also, as I probably won't be updating everyday now you may want to click to follow this story if you haven't, just so you don't forget about it whilst waiting for my chapter updates.


	30. En Garde

Eighteen dropped Bulma on her feet in the hanger next to the machine. She hung onto one of the legs and stuffed her fist in her mouth to stop the screams that wanted to come out. In what nightmare world did she live that her best friend would come back from the grave, not to help her but to kill her lover and part her from her son forever?

Sixteen was demanding explanation but Eighteen wasn't sure what was happening.

'The Kai came back with help!' she yelled at them. 'Vegeta said he can't win against him, against…fucking…' Oh god, if she even said the words she was going to lose it. 'Goku,' she whispered.

Instantly Sixteen's demeanour changed. His expression of calm concern was replaced by ruthless determination. Even Eighteen snapped her head up.

'Did you say Goku?'

'Goku is here?'

She realised her mistake. These two were programmed to kill Goku. If she let them, they might help Vegeta, but she hardly wanted Goku dead any more than Vegeta. And that would leave her unprotected from the Kai.

'No! He's of course he's not. It's someone else entirely. I only meant to say that Goku wouldn't lose if it was him fighting the battle.'

Now she said it, she realised Goku wouldn't lose – he never did. Vegeta was going to die. A horrible sense of de je vu crept over her. Just like last time, he wouldn't get the chance to abandon her with a child. He'd die first.

She slid down the leg of the time machine, collecting in a puddle on the floor.

'Are you alright?' said Eighteen.

'I don't think so, no.'

The sounds of battle raged outside. The light dimmed in the hanger, and it wasn't just faintness coming on this time, it was clouds gathering and darkening, pulled in on the winds of the two warriors drawing power. Vegeta was fighting. This was the time he'd given her to finish the machine and get Trunks back and she was wasting it freaking out on the floor. _Get up Bulma!_

She pulled herself to her feet, forcing her mind to focus only on the last thing that still mattered – getting Trunks home. She left Eighteen guarding the machine and took Sixteen with her to grab stuff. Her partly started navigational system, some tools, buttons, scavenged dials, even her blaster. It may as well be a pea-shooter in this fight, but it still increased her personal deadliness by a hundredfold, and she felt better for it. She gathered them on the small work bench in the hangar. And then she sat down to one of the hardest tasks she'd ever attempted – finishing a navigational system with death and defeat raging overhead.

* * *

Vegeta and Goku eased into their battle, feeling their way into it.

Vegeta couldn't help grinning. Even if he wasn't trying to buy time for the Woman he wouldn't want to rush this. If this was the last battle, they had to do this right. They kept in their base forms, trading physical blows only, attempting to catch each other in holds. When Kakarott caught him out the hits that he landed he certainly felt, but he could do this all day.

'Before we can go any further,' said Kakarott eventually, 'I think we should move somewhere where there are less people.'

' _Less_ people than this?' said Vegeta. 'But you are right. Do you remember what I said about the next time we fought?' He wasn't sure he would, he didn't know what version of reality this Kakarott came from.

'That we would need a whole planet as an arena.'

'That's right.'

Kakarott smiled and brought two fingers to his forehead. 'I know just the place. Follow me!'

He disappeared and Vegeta concentrated himself, looking for the bright spark of Kakarott's energy out there in the galaxy. He felt the Woman's only a few hundred yards away and he quailed a moment, his focus broken. He didn't want to leave her, and yet, he needed to take this fight far away from her. He wanted to shout that it wasn't fair. But since when had it been fair?

He located Kakarott, far, far out in the galaxy, but on impulse he allowed himself one detour. He materialised next to the Woman in hangar. She jumped and screamed, but he grabbed her swiftly and kissed her fast. 'Goodbye,' he said. She just looked at him with her face full of horror and sadness. That was good enough.

He transmitted himself to where Kakarott awaited and looked around he see where they were.

'I was beginning to wonder whether you were coming,' said the other Saiyan. 'I forgot to ask if could use that technique.'

Vegeta recognised this dismal place all too well. They hung above a massive, stone flagged arena. In front of him, as far as the eye could see stretched parade grounds, more arenas, barracks buildings and training courses. Turning around he saw the centre of the city, with its factories, munitions stores, warehouses, shipyards, and atop it all, Freiza's palace. The sun was up, but the sky was dark and filled with stars. There was only a shallow layer of atmosphere on Planet Frieza, not enough to scatter its sun's light like Earth's fat, cushy cloak did for it.

'How do you know this place, Kakarott?' he asked.

'Oh, I came by here on the way back from Planet Yardrat. I wanted to make sure that no new leader had risen up in the place of Freiza, but when I got here everyone was already dead.'

Kakarott was correct. Not a single living being remained in this place, although Vegeta could see some of the dead ones scattered below – dirty smudges and clumps of weeds growing out of the occasional mound of dark soil, bits of shiny bone poking out here and there. He knew that no-one had survived. No soldiers or aides or henchmen, and also no cooks or servants or slaves or novices.

'Really? What a mystery.'

'I don't know about mystery,' said Kakarott. 'Someone left a pretty big clue on the palace walls.'

Vegeta couldn't stop the rueful grin that spread across his face, equally amused and ashamed of the memory. He had daubed 'FRIEZA IS DEAD! LONG LIVE PRINCE VEGETA!' in letters taller than he was on the outside of the palace, in blood, using the severed limbs of Freiza's men as his paintbrushes. What a brutal child he had been back then.

Alerted by Kakarott's change of expression from friendliness to determination, Vegeta put himself en garde just in time to block his first attack. Whilst appearing not to move, Kakarott drove a vicious attack from above. Vegeta countered, leaving his own after image to be ineffectually shattered by Kakarott's elbow.

Kakarott chuckled as Vegeta caught him by the ankle, attempting to fling him to the ground, but he managed to roll out of the spin, flicking Vegeta off a way. 'Nice! I've never seen you use that technique before Vegeta.'

'I learnt it from you.'

'Well I learnt it from Korin.'

'Really?' Vegeta's respect for the old cat took a leap upwards. 'Remind me to apologise to him in the Next World. I'm afraid I've been quite rude.'

'You could be waiting a while. He _is_ immortal.'

Right on the heel of these words Vegeta felt the blow he hadn't noticed coming – a kick to the side that was the strongest Kakarott had landed so far. It didn't really hurt with his power gathered so tightly, but it put him on edge as he followed Kakarott out of the attack, catching him on his momentarily exposed side.

'Ow!' said the fool, laughing as he spun away and came straight back in for more.

After that there was no more room for words.

* * *

Bulma stood frozen in the wake of Vegeta's departure. He'd kissed her hard enough to hurt her. He'd said goodbye and he'd meant it. She would never see him again. She stared at her laptop screen with the code she'd been writing, not seeing, not breathing.

An odd quiet part of her spoke up. Not her rational self this time. _We're going to pretend that didn't happen Bulma. Don't think about it. Don't feel about it. We'll deal with it later. Now keep going!_

She took a deep breath and began typing again, the calculations sizzling to the front of her mind, coming too fast for her fingers to keep up, crowding the moment out of her head.

She felt the pop and Sixteen reacted in the same moment, throwing a punch that connected with the Kai right behind her. She screamed and threw herself forwards over the bench, covering her laptop and other equipment with her body as punches flew so closely behind her that her lab coat was fluttering in the wind of them. Looking over her shoulder she had just enough warning that Eighteen was about to run head long into the fray for her to grab her laptop and run sideways out of the way. Eighteen slammed into the Kai, but he held his own, hitting the bench that held the rest of her stuff, but not hard enough to destroy it. Sixteen managed to grab a hold on the Kai and fling him up through the open hangar doors.

Both the androids looked up after him, leaving the machine in the middle of the open hangar exposed.

'What are you doing?' yelled Bulma, running over to the machine herself, probably not the wisest move. They both followed her. 'You left the machine unguarded!'

'I am sorry, Bulma,' said Sixteen. Then he spoke Eighteen, and he his voice was angry, for him anyway. 'We cannot both attack at once. One of us must guard the machine and one must guard Bulma, and if one of us is engaged with the Kai the other must do their best to cover both.'

'Who are you, my Dad?' said Eighteen.

'Eighteen, you were careless with Miss Briefs just now. She could have been harmed by your actions.'

Eighteen looked daggers at Sixteen, and then to Bulma's surprise she turned to her and said 'I'm sorry I forgot that you're made of spit and tissue paper.'

'Nice apology, Eighteen!' she said. 'Really sincere.'

Eighteen made a face. 'All right, I forgot about the machine and how breakable you are! Sorry! I'll be more careful. Just try not to get your weak human self killed by paper cuts and love-taps or Vegeta will kill me!'

The Kai chose that moment to target the time machine. A beautiful blue glow lit their upturned faces as a large missile of chi barrelled down towards them.

'Mine!' yelled Eighteen, leaping out of the hangar to deflect it.

Bulma backed right up until she bumped her head on the time machine, eyes on the light display above. Eighteen zipped backwards and forwards, dodging and dealing chi blasts. She attacked the Kai head on, arrogant in her abilities. She seemed to have the edge on him with speed and maybe even power, but the Kai's ace up the sleeve was his instantaneous movement, leaving her attacking empty air time and again. It went on and on, neither side appearing to tire, sometimes ranging out of sight, but the sounds and flashes of their warfare could still be heard.

Bulma forced herself to sit down on the ground and start typing out syntax again. If this wasn't the most buggy piece of software she'd ever written she'd French kiss Oolong.

* * *

Already much of the abandoned city was shattered or smoking ruin, but they were running out of play that their base forms could offer them.

'Let's take this up a notch, shall we?' said Kakarott, as if reading his mind. Both warriors flickered into their full powered Super Saiyan forms. It was still Vegeta's favourite form after all these years, offering enough power for almost any crisis, but full control. It could be mastered, and he was a master.

This time Vegeta attacked first, double feinting, and going for a kick that was intended for Kakarott's balls if he hadn't managed to block him just in time.

'Cheeky!' exclaimed Kakarott.

'If you'd fallen for that one you'd have deserved to lose them.'

The other man laughed as they traded and blocked blows and kicks at close quarters. Like a cross between a dance and a game of chess; bluffing, anticipating, attempting to get inside the opponents mind to predict their moves or trick them, and then playing out the moves with your partner, constantly reacting and adapting to what they threw at you. Vegeta grinned. This was his favourite game, and they had both gotten better with age.

'You know what?' said Kakarott. 'You don't seem like a bad guy at all. You're just like the Vegeta I used to know.'

Vegeta's smile disappeared. 'For all I know, I _am_ the Vegeta you used to know!' He managed to land a solid hit on Kakarott's cheek, but on the follow through he took a blow himself in the side of his ribs. Both men split apart for a moment, circling.

Kakarott shook his head. 'He was a changed man when I left him though. I left him as the leader of Earth Special Forces, the defender of humanity.'

'I was, and you did! Did the Kai even tell you why you've been sent to kill me?'

'He told me you're a fugitive who refuses to stop smashing reality into smaller and smaller pieces.'

'Oh. A nice, simple, one-sided tale. He makes it sound like I've been doing this for fun. I can assure you it hasn't been.'

'He told me that you want to get home, but it's impossible. He told me what you're trying to achieve - to recreate a replacement universe, and it's selfish! The Vegeta I knew wouldn't have caused so much pain just to ease his own.'

'Well then, you didn't know me as well as you thought you did!' Vegeta rushed him, anger adding an edge to his motivation, an edge that slightly eclipsed his control and reason. The other Saiyan punished him for his emotional charge, skipping lightly over it and bearing down on his back from above. Vegeta crashed through the roof of a factory, but stopped himself before hitting the ground. He looked up above him to see the golden face of his rival looking down from the hole he'd made in the ceiling.

Kakarott looked pained. 'Tell me that's not true! You turned away from evil.'

'We can't all be the saint that you are Goku. Some of us are just a little more grey in the soul than you. But I wasn't motivated by evil!'

'Are you going to tell me you were motivated by love?'

'That's what love means to me!'

Vegeta smiled as his invisible attack pulled off without a hitch – he'd projected his chi to pull the crumbling tower behind Kakarott down upon his head. Kakarott barely had time to turn his head before masonry was falling on him.

Vegeta blasted his way out through the wall and flew. He wasn't stupid enough to think that this move would do more than slow Kakarott down for more than a few seconds, but in the meantime he could use the breather while he planned.

* * *

Eighteen came smashing back into the hangar, bouncing on her back like a rag doll and cracking the concrete slab floor. Bulma clutched her laptop to her again and whimpered. No amount of Zen focus was going to get her through this program while her protectors were being rained down upon her.

Sixteen yelled at Eighteen asking if she was okay, and the girl sat up, looking dazed. The larger android's face set in a look of fierce determination.

'My turn' he said.

The Kai materialised right inside the hangar between Eighteen and the machine, his eye finding Bulma crouching underneath it. A blast struck him from behind and he flinched, turning back to Eighteen, enough time for Sixteen to charge into action. He hit him from below with both hands like a volleyball player. The Kai crumpled and was launched skyward, Sixteen following on his heels.

'Oh my fucking god!' she breathed.

Eighteen rolled to her hands and knees, crawling over. 'You said it sister. Fucking god.'

She rubbed her back and stared up at the fight. 'That clock on the wall got broken. Do you have the time?' she asked Bulma.

She looked at her watch, experiencing a surreal moment. 'Eleven thirty. Why?'

'Timing myself. I made an hour and a quarter. We'll see how far Sixteen gets before he has to tag out.'

Bulma swallowed and turned back to her work again. One half of her personal protection squad was treating the fight as about as seriously as an exhibition wrestling match, and despite the pasting she was taking her motivation appeared to be to have fun. What would Eighteen do if it stopped being fun?

* * *

Vegeta laid a trap that made him snigger. He didn't know whether Kakarott would fall for it or not, but it was a rare treat to try something like this. In front of Freiza's palace was a long parading avenue. There was no real cover on either side, only low stands of stone bleachers, but there were small and regular openings into a parallel underground transit system. Vegeta had flown over these and planted a seed of intense energy in each, letting them all sink down to the centre of the tunnel below.

He had just reached the end of the avenue when he sensed Kakarott's approach and turned as if caught in the act of fleeing, feigning exhaustion and fear. He pushed his power down until the gold of his Saiyan form flickered and threatened to go out. Then he flew straight ahead, straight towards the palace. Kakarott took the bait, flying directly down the avenue at speed and without caution. Vegeta heard the stone flags shatter and the man's cry of surprise as he triggered twenty or so white hot balls of chi to erupt right under him. Vegeta turned to better enjoy and control the mayhem as Kakarott stalled right in the middle of the avenue, swatting away at the blasts that were swarming to him like bees to honey. Vegeta directed one to hit him right on the butt, and laughed as Kakarott leapt higher with a yelp. His laughed died though as Kakarott then cleaned up the rest in less than two seconds with a wave of chi that burst from him and carried all the way to Vegeta.

Kakarott had stepped up to level two Saiyan. Vegeta would have to do the same. The higher form would burn through his power faster, but if he didn't transform Kakarott would make minced meat out of him in minutes.

'Tricky,' said Kakarott. 'But I though we were here to get serious.'

'I am serious. Here is my serious face.' He powered up to Super Sayan 2, feeling as that form moulded him into something slightly different. Something tougher. Something uncompromising. And definitely something less playful.

'All right then,' said Kakarott, bringing his hands up.

Vegeta narrowed his eyes at Kakarott. What were the fool's weaknesses? Compassion. Nobility of heart. Vegeta would attempt to exploit them and bring his rival to his knees.

He sensed the movement of chi that preceded Kakarott's attack, divined it's target, blocked, sensed the change of action and blocked that instead, all before they clashed into each other like mountainsides. The crack of their hardened flesh colliding rang out like fireworks through the empty city. The pressure between them increased as they both struggled invisibly against the other's chi, like arm wrestling with their life force, their forearms crossed against each other, toe to toe and knee to knee, every limb blocked from moving forward by the other's. The avenue below them buckled and caved as the sphere of their warring power widened.

Vegeta looked into the snarl of Kakarott's crystalline aqua eyes, feeling hatred and admiration in equal measures.

'Why didn't you give it up Vegeta? Done what the Supreme Kai wanted?' Kakarott asked, struggling to get the words out while they were so precariously balanced against each other. 'We wouldn't need to be having this fight now. We could've waited…till we were old.'

'I did give it up fool! I already decided to stay here in this timeline.' Vegeta panted from the effort of holding his own and talking at the same time. 'Kai doesn't care. Sent you to put me down.'

He could say no more as he strained to not fall to Goku's strength. They dropped in the air again as the avenue fell into the subway beneath it. They were both unbalanced a tiny bit by the sudden shift, but Vegeta used the distraction to flip himself up and out of the firing line of the other man's intensity. Kakarott followed him of course, catching hold of one of his arms as they went, but at least he was out of that relentless onslaught of power and they were back to actual combat, throwing kicks and punches. He got Kakarott in a chokehold for a while, but he knew it wouldn't last. His opponent was too good at fighting while incapacitated that way. He merely curled his body up and kicked back at Vegeta's head, forcing him to dodge until he finally relented, sending Kakarott on his way with a punch in the nose that drove him back towards the ground.

Kakarott floated back up to his level.

'I don't believe you,' he said. 'Kibito Kai is merciful. Not vengeful. He wouldn't sentence a man who changed his ways.'

'Oh yes? You heard him. The Kai have decided. And not just me, the Woman too.' He saw Kakarott's eyes cloud with doubt and pressed on. 'Bulma. My _mate_. Your _friend_. And all because she wants to get her son back. She's not even time travelled once, and she won't get a chance before they kill her.'

'She must've done something more than that if they…'

'She's done nothing! Nothing except build a time machine.'

'I'm sure if that's true the Kai will be merciful.'

'Mercy to them _is_ death! But it's not mercy unless you're rewarded as you were, with a body and purpose, or at least are sent to the Eternal Garden to be with the family and friends that you knew in life. It's not mercy if you end up separated from them forever! I refuse to be separated, and so does she!'

He saw the doubt creeping into the other Saiyan, but he was masking it with anger. With any luck it would weaken his resolve, or at least distract him enough to be beaten.

'Enough talking Vegeta!'

'Fine!'

Their fight raged now across the arenas and barracks, and out over the wilderness, growing wilder and more explosive with every exchange. Vegeta felt a small spark of satisfaction. Kakarott was divided now. Without his conviction of purpose Vegeta just needed to find the stamina and strength to outlast him.

It was a faint hope, but one worth clinging to.


	31. Vegeta's Last Gambit

'What's the time now?' asked Eighteen, dragging herself back to Bulma.

Bulma shook as she looked at her watch. The hours of this nervy siege were taking their toll. 'Four thirty.'

'Dammit,' said Eighteen. 'I barely lasted fifteen minutes that time. I hope Sixteen's not going to go for another hour like last time.'

Since that morning the Kai had been attacking them on and off, not able to get past the androids defences, but Bulma had a feeling that he was wearing them down faster than they were wearing him down. Eighteen's clothes were already scorched to tatters and she showed signs of tiredness, and though Sixteen wasn't lagging he had lost an ear to a powerful blast from the Kai.

In some moments of respite they had moved the time machine into the corner of the hangar where it _felt_ like it might be a bit more protected. Bulma wasn't sure this was logical, but as the three of them had all agreed that it felt more unprotected out in the middle they had moved it. Then Bulma had moved all the things she needed to finish it under the pod of it, including herself.

'Is it wise to concentrate all your assets in one place like this?' Sixteen had asked.

'All my eggs in one basket you mean?' said Bulma. 'Well in this case, if even one of the eggs gets broken, it's all over. At least this way you've only got one target to defend.'

Now she looked at Eighteen who she heartily hoped wasn't as tired as she seemed, and at the scorched walls and cracked and burnt floor of the hangar and wondered how the hell she was meant to finish the time machine while this raged around her. With superhuman effort she was debugging the worst piece of code she had ever written, full of syntax errors and random, half-finished expressions and hardly a line of code passing muster. At some point soon she would have to leave the relative safely of the underbelly of the time machine and get inside it to start installing things. The time drive wasn't even hooked up. Did she trust herself to take this machine out without a test run? It hadn't even made it through a power-on two days ago!

Well, first things first – she'd have to survive to that point before worrying about it.

She looked up when she realised she no longer heard the sounds of Sixteen and Kibito Kai's fight. She was just in time to see Kibito Kai pop into being directly in front of her. She screamed, pulling up her blaster and shot at him wildly.

'Ow!' he said, clutching his arm when she hit him, but forgetting about it immediately when Eighteen somersaulted from sitting to block the line of sight between him and Bulma. They clashed, limbs moving too fast for Bulma to follow, when suddenly Eighteen doubled up, the Kai's leg buried in her stomach and his hands still holding her arm. Eighteen made a shockingly pitiful noise and then the Kai spun and threw her down the length of the hangar where she embedded in the wall with an impact that shook the floor.

Next the Kai raised a fist full of blue light at Bulma. The light reflected off the sweat on his pretty face.

'Come with me now Bulma! I don't want to do this, so please don't make me!'

Bulma thought her heart would stop. She saw that he meant what he said - he really didn't want to do this. The Kai was upset, ragged, and emotional like she'd never seen him before.

'Then don't do it!' she begged.

'Then come with me to the Next World.' He held his other hand out, palm up, empty, pleading.

'NO!' She fired her blasted at him again and again, but he barely flinched now. He took a deep breath and –

Was pulled back off his feet by a wild looking Android Eighteen. She threw him to the ground, holding him close with one arm and punching him with the other. And then Sixteen came shooting down from above and landed with his foot right in the Kai's torso. The purple skinned man convulsed as he was crushed and Bulma actually cried out in sympathy for him. He wasn't dead though. He struggled against the two androids who continued to hold him down and raised his head from the ground, his eyes on Bulma. And then he disappeared.

Sixteen and Eighteen fell to the floor where the Kai's body had been and Bulma sagged back with relief, crying.

'How long do you think he'll be gone for this time then?' asked Eighteen.

'Probably not long,' replied Sixteen. 'I don't think we really hurt him then.'

Bulma cried harder, pity for the Kai turning into pity for her own plight. When was this going to end?

* * *

Their fight had morphed into a cat and mouse game. Vegeta was hiding, lowering his power level to pitiful levels in order to creep through the city. The Super Saiyan level two had been ripping though his reserves and now he needed some kind of breather and just as importantly, water. He hadn't drunk anything since breakfast and that was about nine hours ago. He also wished he'd gotten a decent sleep last night.

For a while Goku had stayed in the sky, trying to sense Vegeta's location and blast him from on high. When he guessed too well Vegeta had to raise his power level to either evade or survive the blast, and that gave Kakarott a better idea where he was, which meant a flurry of explosions. However, Vegeta had given him the slip a few times. His knowledge of the city, though rusty, was an advantage. He used the underground tunnels as much as he could.

But for the last half an hour Kakarott had also powered way down. Now they were involved in a silent game of stalking, both searching for and looking to evade the other. The tension was making Vegeta sweat, which was the last thing he needed when the only other thing he could keep in his mind besides Kakarott's whereabouts was how good a cold glass of water would feel right now. Would it be too much to ask that Kakarott was feeling the same discomfort?

Coming up to street level again he spotted his goal – a massive old reservoir tank about four storeys high and three times as wide. He only hoped that there was still some water in it, and that it was drinkable.

Looking around he could not sense or see his rival, so he struck out across the last hundred yards or so, sticking to the dark shadows the sun cast on this barren planet.

Now, how to get in?

There was a ladder, but it started about ten feet from the ground. Sighing, he raised his power level just enough so that he could run up the wall and catch the bottom of the ladder. Then he climbed it, feeling his back prickle with the sense of exposure. Once on top he looked around, but there was no attack, no Kakarott.

In the centre of the domed roof of the tank was a steel lid like a manhole cover, but it opened easily and without too much expenditure of chi. He looked down and to his relief saw water rippling below. It didn't even smell _too_ bad. He estimated the drop and then jumped in, hoping the sound of his entering the water was not more than the beacon of chi he would have lit if he'd flown.

He hit the water and came up, cautiously tasting the stuff. It was pretty awful, but not as stagnant as he'd feared. It had a strong metallic taste, but the water on Frieza's planet had always tasted bad – the city overseers had treated it to the point of unpalatability.

He drank his fill and was just wondering which way to get out of this thing when a twitch of chi below him made him look down - but too late. Kakarott's arms wrapped around him, pinning his arms to his sides. The man erupted to gold, spilling light around the inside of the tank. Vegeta did the same to avoid a swift crushing to death as Kakarott bore him down under the surface.

As he went down struggling he cursed himself for his stupidity. The ripples should have tipped him off. What business did ripples have in water that had sat undisturbed for decades? And of course the other man had been thirsty too! Did he think Kakarott more than mere mortal?

He was getting nowhere fast here. Could Kakarott drown him? Which one of them could hold their breath the longest? He kicked back with his legs, not able to do much until he finally connected with something that would've been soft and squishy were it not for the chi that hardened their bodies. Even so he heard and felt the bubbles of Kakarott's exclamation under the water. Kakarott tried to go up for air but Vegeta didn't quite need air yet, so he decided to leverage this fact, pushing himself downwards with his chi, keeping Kakarott underwater.

The younger Saiyan broke first, letting go with one arm to launch a blast that bust out the concrete wall of the tank, and they found themselves pouring out the side of it along with hundreds of thousands of gallons of water. Vegeta managed to break away and let the current carry him slightly apart from Goku. It deposited them both on the plaza surrounded by the quarters that had once housed the factory slaves.

'Very clever Kakarott,' he conceded as he stood.

Kakarott smiled wryly. 'Nice recovery. If slightly underhanded.'

'I don't recall reading a rule book,' said Vegeta.

The other man laughed. 'Didn't you get the pamphlet in the mail? Saiyan Death Battle Tournament Rules!'

'Huh.'

'Just kidding Vegeta. You can fight as dirty as you like, just as long as you can take it like you dish it.'

'Agreed. But I don't think you know how to fight dirty Kakarott. This is something I'll have to see to believe.'

'You will. But first there's something I can't figure out.' Kakrott cocked his head and narrowed his eyes, as if fixing Vegeta in the cross-hairs of a rifle. What was the fool considering? But when Kakarott spoke he asked the last question Vegeta expected.

'Why you didn't use the dragon balls to wish yourself home?'

Vegeta blinked and scowled, losing some of the focus he was gathering. Did Kakarott think him as stupid as himself?

'Don't you think I tried? I _was_ home as far as Shenron was concerned. The dragons can't touch the other universes. They have no knowledge of them. Shenron couldn't even restore the data that I lost on my time machine because I had lost it in another timeline.'

'Oh! I get it.'

'Though I'm surprised that you of all people would talk about using the dragon balls, or did they not break in your timeline?'

'No, that happened all right. And I went away with Shenron for a hundred years. You're right. Relying on the dragon balls is wrong. Not having them forced the Z-fighters to grow up. Bad stuff happens. People die, are lost forever, but if you keep undoing the damage with a wish, or say, time travel...undoing your mistakes and bringing back loved ones, how will you learn to accept pain and death and responsibility?'

Vegeta sucked in breath through his teeth. Kakarott had just put a finger on the root of his failings. He thought he accepted pain and death, but he couldn't accept the pain and death of those few he loved. Their faces flashed through his mind, blinding him with regret. The next second Kakarott was upon him, a punch that knocked him clean into the air.

'I told you I could fight dirty!' yelled Kakarott, and then he pulled back and wound up a massive Kamehameha wave, blasting it at Vegeta.

It was too slow to be a real threat and Vegeta dodged it easily. Then he realised that it hadn't _meant_ to be a real threat. Kakarott was playing games with him. He rejoined the man in the ankle deep water on the plaza, rubbing his chin where Kakarott had caught him. Man, that one had hurt.

'What are you playing at Kakarott?'

'Just feeling for weaknesses. Think I found one.'

Vegeta growled at him, furious for being mocked.

'If anyone should be probed for a soft emotional underbelly it should be you Kakarott!'

'Well, I'm kind of soft and emotional all over, so in a way, equally hard all over. You on the other hand…It's more of a soft emotional belly button - small, but it goes deep and boy does it hurt when it gets poked!'

Vegeta snarled, attacking him head on, dimly realising as he did that this was exactly the sort of behaviour that was going to end their match early.

Goku capitalised, evading and deflecting him, then following up with another blast that crushed him face first through a city block. Vegeta managed to brace for impact in time and came powering out the other side of the building. 'Idiot!' he berated himself.

'Still want to fight dirty?' asked Kakarott as Vegeta returned, stopping a healthy distance away.

'Do what you want!'

'Well I'm not going to. It's not a pleasant fight.'

Vegeta scoffed. This was Kakarott's weakness in play right now. His compassion and belief in fighting fair, which he didn't even see as a flaw, was the one thing that opened him up. Vegeta made up his mind to go back and attack that crack he'd spotted in Kakarott's resolve earlier. _He_ wasn't going to give up any advantage.

They both powered up to their second level again. This time when they clashed Vegeta held his own with ease. He began to turn the screw.

'Would you like to know a little more about this charming side arm of reality you're consigning to misery Kakarott?' he asked, not letting up the fight for a second.

'What do I have to do with it?'

'Without Trunks and myself this Earth is a defenceless rock. Its greatest warrior will be Android Eighteen, who is just as likely to destroy the Earth's inhabitants as save them. If you kill me and prevent the Woman retrieving her son, misery is all that's in store for this place.'

'Bad things happen and this isn't the only place they happen. Don't think you're going to convince me to throw this fight for a sad tale Vegeta.'

'Well, you won't mind me telling you about Bulma then. About what life's been like for her.'

Kakarott said nothing, and they fought grimly. Vegeta lost the upper hand, but as Kakarott knocked him away he found the chance to speak again.

'First she lost you to the virus Kakarott. And you couldn't be revived with wishes that time, so you were gone for good. And then the heart virus killed millions - many of them people that she knew – the planet was in terror from that heart virus you almost _certainly_ brought back with you from planet Yardrat.'

'Who said I brought it back? You're just saying that!' grunted Kakarott as he bore down on him again.

Vegeta didn't even see the territory they moved over and through now. It may as well have been made of butter, or cotton candy for all it impeded them. All he could see was Kakarott and the world he was describing to him.

'Am I? The Trunks from the future told me how it was. You were Patient Zero, the epicentre of the disease, and the RNA was like nothing the scientists here had ever seen before. Your mate and son were lucky not to catch it, but then again, your mate didn't live much longer even so.'

'What?'

'Chichi died the first day the androids revealed themselves.'

Kakarott caught him a blow in the stomach that shut him up a while, and while he was gasping, Kakarott got his hands around his throat. The pressure was immense and Vegeta wondered if he'd pushed Kakarott the wrong way. He fought back, still able to do damage with his legs, but he couldn't reach Kakarott's neck – the damn oaf had longer arms than he did! His vision was starting to go black around the edges.

'Your son,' he croaked, grimacing at the pain. 'Gohan!'

'What about him?' said Kakarott, truly angry now. He loosened his grip a little, enough to let Vegeta talk.

'He was the only one of the Z fighters who survived past the first day.'

'I already knew that.'

'He grew up an orphan. Bulma was his substitute mother and best friend. Trunks was his brother and his other best friend. That woman, who the Kai is going to murder, helped raise your son.'

'It doesn't make any difference Vegeta! We all die!'

Vegeta twisted free of Kakarott's loosened grip, charged and detonated handfuls on energy directly into his exposed side then fled to a safe distance. He didn't get much of a chance to catch his breath. Kakarott was after him, raining a fire of energy blasts upon him. Well good, let him waste his chi. He transmitted himself behind his opponent and for old times sake released an oversized garlic gun blast right between Kakarott's shoulder blades. He chuckled as it carried him off, away towards the horizon.

He was just beginning to wonder if he should follow, when Kakarott tried to pull the exact same trick on him. Luckily he was able to turn and get his guard up in time to fend off the jet of power that Kakarott was aiming at him. Their beams of energy struggled against each other, sparks flying off. Vegeta grunted at the effort of holding back Kakarott's fire.

'You're wrong Kakarott. It does make a difference! Where we die, when we die! It matters to me, it matters to this Woman!'

Vegeta felt the power burst out of him, an unexpected and painful surge that caught both him and Kakarott off guard. Kakarott was lost in the power that erupted in his face, blowing him towards the sky. Vegeta panted, surprised that he had managed that much, but of course, as the light faded Kakarott still stood, arms raised to fend the attack. Typical.

'Why does it matter?' asked Kakarott, making no other move.

'Her son will die in another universe. His soul will never return here. She'll never see him in this world or the next. It matters to me because if we die now I'll never see my daughter again. I won't see anyone I care to see. I'm almost certainly headed for Hell again.'

'It didn't have to be that way Vegeta.'

'Well it's a bit late for me to change my ways now that you've come for me!' He laughed bitterly, and it caught in his throat. 'The Woman forbid me to die until I was eligible for eternal peace! I'd have liked not to disappoint her.' He hadn't realised how much it touched him until he said it now. Oh gods, who was he trying to undo here? Himself? His eyes were growing blurred with tears. He dashed them away. Hopefully Kakarott didn't decide to make his move now or he'd be half blind. But Kakarott stood his ground, just folded his arms.

'What else?'

'She's pregnant, with my child.' Vegeta felt like he was baring his very soul to Kakarott as he said it. 'Even if the Kai lets her live this other child will grow up in a ruined world. I attempted to bring Dende here so the dragon balls would come back to life, so Bulma and Trunks could use them to restore the planet, but Dende is gone.'

'Really?' Goku frowned and brought two fingers to his forehead, concentrating hard. Vegeta wondered if he should get a shot in while his focus was off planet, but decided that would be counter productive. 'It seems you're right,' said Kakarott eventually.

'The New Namekians said he went away with a stranger, in a time machine, years ago. Half the Nameks are gone, either enticed away or kidnapped. Roshi's gone too. It makes me wonder what else I would find was missing, if I went looking. Someone's been using this universe for spare parts. They've been treating this place like a disposable donor, but these are real people, and the consequences are real pain!'

'And you wouldn't ever do anything like that, would you Vegeta?'

With shame Vegeta realised Kakarott was right. He had treated hundreds of timelines as mere resources himself. It was the reason he was here in this universe to start with, although in this case, what he was taking away was something no-one here would have wanted.

'I don't think anyone is going to be upset about me stealing Cell from this world. Do you?'

'I know it was more than just this time with Cell.'

'Shit,' Vegeta muttered. He realised he was never going to argue his way out of this one. He himself had not treated the inhabitants of other timelines as being full people, with real lives. They'd never seemed quite real to him. Only living here with the Woman had taught him that every being in every universe was just as valid as all the rest. There was no 'real' and 'not real'.

'Before I came here I knew no better.'

Kakarott shook his head sadly. 'You should have always known better.' Then he frowned. 'Now, I've come a long way to have the match fight of my life. I don't want the journey to be a waste. So if you're ready…'

To Vegeta's dismay Kakarott cast his arms wide and screamed as he powered up. A maelstrom immediately leapt up about him, gathering dust and bits of broken masonry in a hundred yard radius and whipping them around it a wild circle.

'No!' gasped Vegeta, firing an enormous energy blast at the figure now cloaked in its centre, but the energy was just whipped away with the dust. Lightning crackled through the dry air – massive discharges of static as Kakarott took charge of the chi contained even between the air molecules.

Vegeta knew what he was going to see when the dust cleared and felt cold certainly settle in his stomach like a stone. Kakarott had moved to Super Saiyan level 3.

Ah well, he'd tried. Perhaps his speech was enough to make Kakarott want to save Bulma from the Kaioshin. He certainly didn't want to go back to Hell, but at least when he died today he'd have a warrior's death worth being proud of for the rest of Eternity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Next chapter 3/4 the way to completion. I hate cutting it so close!


	32. Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Well, I should wait another day, and maybe I'll pay for this when I don't have the next chapter ready in 2 days time (especially as I am now sick), but there was a general angst in the reviews that I couldn't ignore about various character's intentions. I feel a rush on to get the story out.

'Keep going, you're nearly there!'

'I don't require your coaching Kakarott!'

With one last howl of rage Vegeta completed the transformation to super Saiyan level 3. He stood gasping in the rain of dust and debris of his transformation, barely in control. The energy that coursed through him was wild and unstable and _incredible_. He'd only made it to this level twice before, both while attempting to defeat Buu in timelines he had broken, fuelled by his desperation to regain his family. He hadn't been at all sure he'd be able to succeed today, but luckily he was spared the humiliation of disappointing Kakarott.

'All _right!_ You did it. Now let's really fight!'

Vegeta found he was more than ready to. This form was eager to fight.

'Shut your condescending mouth! Better yet, let me close it for you!'

He pursued Kakarott, and his body moved like smooth syrup; time slowed down inside his head so that he could move and act at phenomenal speed. He could see Kakarott's every move with ease. It was just amazing.

Kakarott was laughing, and when he turned and fought, Vegeta was in awe of his own body and mind - acting as if of it's own accord, decades of training pouring out of him like a river, fighting off Kakarott as easily as breathing. He laughed himself – the power was heady.

'Well, you got it, now control it,' said Kakarott. And then he took his own fight slightly beyond Vegeta's ability to perceive it. 'Focus!' Vegeta took a kick to the chest that launched him up and out of the planet's thin atmosphere.

He came back just as fast, the pain making a hard point in his euphoria. He'd mash that grinning buffoon for that! Teach him to play with him! The pain was already giving him something to focus on. He realised that he couldn't just be carried by the increase in his speed and power. He was still going to have to push it to beat Kakarott at the same game.

'Well, thanks for the tip Kakarott. It'll probably be the last piece of advice you ever dispense!'

'If you say so Vegeta!'

* * *

Bulma crouched on the mattress, assembling fine instruments on the sheets. Sixteen had moved the mattress under the time machine for her to sit on to save her back and legs cramping. She was extremely uncomfortable and hungry, but she didn't have much time to think of her body. At least she wasn't thirsty. She had a flask – a literal lab flask – that Eighteen had swiped from the chem lab for her, and filled with water. She sipped this when she remembered.

Sixteen squatted next to her watching the sky. The laptop sat behind her, compiling her sloppy code. Eighteen dropped back down through the ceiling, walking rubber legged over to them.

'He's gone again. I think I hurt him pretty well this time though.'

She grabbed the scorched sofa and dragged it over to the time machine, pushing it up against the metal legs on the other side of Sixteen and then collapsed heavily on it.

'I think somehow he is being healed between attacks. That is why he keeps leaving us alone,' said Sixteen.

'Then we have to figure out how to get him to stick around long enough to kill him,' said Eighteen.

Bulma looked up from her work at the woman. She was laying face down with her head only a foot or so away from Bulma's where she crouched. Her eyes were closed, she looked tired and her blouse and skirt were so charred that they were hanging off her in strips. It was hard to imagine that this was the same person who had killed Gohan with pleasure.

Bulma shucked her lab coat and held it out to her.

'Here, Eighteen, put this on if you like.'

Eighteen opened her eyes again and eyed Bulma suspiciously, and then inspected the coat. 'Urgh, it's so shapeless! But I suppose it better than fighting naked. Although, not by much.' She knelt up on the couch and put it on. 'I'm glad Seventeen's not here to see me wearing this.'

'Seventeen does not care for fashion,' contradicted Sixteen.

'No, but I do, and I'd never want to be caught dead wearing this in front of anyone that counted.'

Bulma rolled her eyes.

It was getting full dark outside. The last few attacks from the Kai had been difficult to spot from the hangar without the bright sky behind him. Sixteen and Eighteen debated and decided to close the overhead doors. Sixteen went and refilled Bulma's flask. Bulma continued building the instruments with difficulty. Her hands were shaking with both nerves and hunger.

Suddenly Eighteen opened her eyes, sitting up and looking back towards the lab. Bulma could hear someone was walking through it, but could only see an old staff moving by itself. The reason for this became apparent when Korin came through the door. He was too short to be seen above the benches.

Oh, it's just the cat,' said Eighteen, laying back down again.

'Bulma? What the blazes has been going on?'

Bulma shimmed off the mattress and came towards him, but not too far. She was afraid to leave the sphere of the androids' protection.

'Korin, you can't be here, the Kai is after me and the machine right now. We've been under attack all day.'

Korin looked around the hangar, nodded to Sixteen and then crossed to Bulma. 'And where's Vegeta?'

Bulma froze at his name, unable to move or speak past it.

'Vegeta is gone,' said Sixteen.

Korin looked at him and then at Bulma. Whatever he saw in her face made him alarmed. 'Do I dare ask where?'

Bulma shook her head, desperate not to hear or speak about _him_ right now. Not yet. Not when she still had so much that she needed to do before falling apart.

Korin groaned and sighed unhappily. 'All right, all right girl. No need to say anything more. Sit down now. Have you eaten?'

She shook her head again and did as he said. He passed her a thermos that he was carrying under his arm.

'Here, get into that.'

It was chicken and corn soup. Bulma drank it from the lid, fast, barely tasting it but glad of the heat and the easing of some of the pain in her stomach.

'I got worried when neither of you showed up for lunch. And then when you were late for dinner I knew something bad was up.'

'You should go Korin. The Kai could be here any second.'

'Hmm,' said Korin, sitting down beside her. 'I hope he does. I rather feel like giving him a piece of my mind.'

'Don't be silly Korin!'

'What's he going to do? Throw me into Hell for catering to the wrong element?'

Bulma gave a little hiccupping laugh and then spilled hot soup on herself as the Kai made his entrance right in the middle of the hangar. Korin gasped and his hair stood on end, but Sixteen moved to action within a split second of the Kai's appearance. The Kai swivelled to face Bulma but that was as far as he got. Sixteen engaged him, both of them grunting with the hits they dealt and took, but then Sixteen managed to get a hold on the Kai. He lobbed him upward, through the closed door. The metal ruptured with a burst that made Korin and Bulma cringe and cover their ears. Sixteen flew after the Kai but was back in a handful of seconds.

'Gone again huh?' said Eighteen, getting off the couch. 'Less than a minute that time Sixteen. Guess I'm back on rotation.'

Sixteen crouched by the machine again. 'I think he is getting tired,' he said, smiling. His optimism was as inexhaustible as his power supply.

'You've got nerves of solid steel lad,' said Korin, still blinking from the display of fast and furious action.

'Negative. My nerves are a highly conductive titanium tungsten alloy filaments.'

* * *

Korin did stay for a while, witnessing several attempts by the Kai to get past the androids, including one when he appeared so close to Bulma he was within an inch of touching her before Eighteen flicked him away. Bulma screamed that time and cried while she loaded her navigational program onto the little computer that would run it. Sixteen opened the hangar doors again as it was clear that it was only going to get more holes in it, and it was forcing the Kai to appear directly inside the hangar. Eventually Korin was falling asleep on the mattress. Bulma didn't like to see him vulnerable, making a target of himself for no good reason. She woke him and managed to convince him to go home.

'If I'm still alive in the morning though, I'd be very grateful if you came back.'

'Of course I will.'

She gave him a hug, which appeared to fluster him.

'You'd _better_ be all right Bulma…' he grumbled, and then flew up out of the hangar himself.

* * *

Their fight moved with such rapidity that almost every other being in the universe would have had trouble keeping up. Vegeta struggled to keep discipline over himself in this form. He'd gained the upper hand over Kakarott a dozen times just have it ripped away again when he lost himself in the enjoyment of the fight. Kakarott also took great pleasure in exploiting these slip ups.

Vegeta was dominating right at this moment though. He had Kakarott confused with a series of feints, and the fool was off the game long enough for Vegeta to come down on him from above, striking him with a foot in the head. Kakarott went down without seeing what hit him and plummeted head first towards the ground. To Vegeta's surprise and satisfaction the other man continued to plunge _below_ the ground. His body went deep, scattering a sheet of rock until it was out of sight, and then with a monstrous crack, the loudest sound Vegeta had ever heard, the ground split from horizon to horizon.

Vegeta held his breath, waiting for Kakarott to resurface. For seconds he didn't, and then he saw magma fill the crack in the planet, swelling up. Could it be that Kakarott had perished?

Kakarott came rushing out, just ahead of the lava, clutching his backside and howling with pain. He made it out into the cold air and patted the back of his pants gingerly.

'Ouch!'

Vegeta felt a rush of relief and then corrected himself. He was here to kill the clown if he possibly could – he needed to keep that sort of crap under wraps. Misplaced concern for Kakarott would not help him finish the job, nor extend his own survival.

'Hey Vegeta,' Kakarott called, looking up and down the split rock. 'You broke the planet!'

'No, you broke it with your solid bone skull Kakarott!'

The other man laughed, rubbing the top of his head. 'I guess I deserved that one. But I won't let you land another like it!' He was rather worse for wear. His gi was singed, the knees worn out already, one eye half closed and a trickle of blood running down from his hairline. Vegeta supposed he himself looked no better. Probably worse.

He came at him, and soon Vegeta was faced with the possibility that Kakarott's prediction was correct – he couldn't retain an advantage long enough to pull off a similar feat again. The fight was slowly but surely slipping away from him.

* * *

It was well past midnight. Bulma examined Sixteen's hand. It made her feel ill to look at, even though there was no blood. The palm was torn open, and his little and ring finger hung loosely, almost torn off.

'I think I'll be able to fix it…just as soon as the Gods stop raining wrath down from the sky.' She gingerly manipulated the hanging fingers, which were still warm and twitched in her hand. 'I think we'd better take these off in the meantime.'

Eighteen looked on, an expression of distress on her face.

'Does it hurt Sixteen?'

'No. I do not feel pain. Not in the same way as a human.'

'Really?' she said. 'The Good Doctor didn't see fit to spare me and Seventeen pain.'

'Our creator also omitted to give me several other human sensations, not all of them unpleasant ones I believe.'

'Well! Embarrassing! I wonder which of us got the better deal?'

Bulma sniped the fingers off with wire cutters then bound the hand with clean rags to keep the dirt out of the delicate internal workings. Eighteen watched her intently. She was _supposed_ to be watching for the Kai.

'Hey Bulma, if I get broken, will you fix me too?' She said it quietly, without her usual attitude.

'I'm fixing Sixteen aren't I?'

'Yeah, but you like Sixteen more than me.'

Bulma looked at her, kneeling over her. The girl's face was troubled, which was worrying. So it was getting not-so-fun for Eighteen now? Was she afraid of getting hurt for someone she didn't really care for?

'Of course I will Eighteen. If I can.'

'Yeah?'

'You're helping me. I'm really grateful you're here, both of you!'

'Huh,' she said, but with a small smile. 'Not just because Vegeta would tell you to?'

Bulma's stomach clenched at the mention of his name. But she did need to keep Eighteen on her side if she could. 'No. Do you see him here? Not just because of him.'

'You are a good person Bulma Briefs,' said Sixteen. 'Eighteen finds it harder to trust you than I do because she is not used to having friends.'

'Hey, don't put words in my mouth Gigantor!' said Eighteen, standing back up, turning away to watch the sky again. 'Ha! _Friends!_ '

* * *

Bulma made her first excursion up into the machine's cockpit around two in the morning. Sixteen hovered protectively, but the frequency of the Kai's attacks had slowed. She opened the dashboard and began wiring and screwing the navigational system in, putting the instruments in place and the screen and other dials. Her head felt light and fuzzy – she was so jazzed and tired and hungry again it was taking her longer than it normally would. She nearly wept in frustration when the screwdriver slipped out of the screw head and when skittering down inside the machine out of reach.

'Not so fast!' she heard Eighteen say below, and knew that the Kai has returned. She hid, shaking in the cockpit until the sounds of their fight left the hangar, and then she hopped out and back down the step ladder. She chugged the rest of the lukewarm soup from the thermos and then unscrewed the bottom panel of the machine, looking for her screwdriver. While she was there she realised that she may as well install the cloaking device while she had the panel off. Then she slapped herself on the forehead because she realised she had made no provision for controlling the thing from the cockpit.

Eighteen landed lightly next to the machine again and then sagged. She fell onto the sofa with a groan. 'When is this going to _end?_ '

Bulma didn't want to answer her, but she prayed silently that Eighteen would hang in there just a while longer. Things would get out of hand fast if she only had Sixteen to rely upon.

As she picked up the cloaking device with the battery still attached she couldn't help thinking that even though the Kai could sense her life force, it would help to be invisible right now.

Oh hang on. What a dummy she was!

'Eighteen, search the electronics lab for a small backpack. The one I used to carry the time warp drive in.'

The girl sighed and hauled herself up 'Yes Miss, no Miss, anything you say Miss!'

Bulma put the cloaking device and battery in the bag and then instructed Sixteen to kneel so she could strap it to him. It looked ridiculously tiny on his back and the straps only just reached around his shoulders, but it couldn't be seen when Bulma turned the battery on because Sixteen disappeared.

'No life force, no see,' said Bulma smugly.

Eighteen and Sixteen were both impressed.

'Now he will not know where I am attacking or defending from,' said Sixteen.

'Oh my god, that is so weird. It's like your voice is coming out from nowhere,' said Eighteen. 'Well, it looks like you're on sentry duty.'

* * *

The surface of planet Freiza looked like crazy paving grouted with lava. Jets and geysers of molten rock erupted between them randomly. The planet probably only had hours or minutes before it lost it's form and spread out like a burst grapefruit along its orbit.

Vegeta fought desperately with everything he had. He'd made his way past the pitfalls of this third transformation and now thought with a mind as clear and sharp as ever, but it wasn't helping. Kakarott was dominating him, and what's worse, he felt his power levels dropping, sapped away with each hit. He wasn't sure how much longer he could maintain the Super Saiyan level 3.

Those hits he did manage to get in on Kakarott were not going to do the job. He needed something massive. He began hoarding power, gathering it up, merely attempting to evade his rival while he prepared an energy attack that he knew would likely be his last. And if it was, so be it. He wasn't going to let the other Saiyan beat him slowly back down to base form before squashing him with his little finger. His only consolation was that Kakarott was no longer having an easy time of it either. They were both tired and carrying injuries, it's just that Vegeta was fading faster.

Kakarott was getting sloppier and letting his guard down more, either because he was too tired or he was too assured of Vegeta's exhaustion to care. Vegeta counted on this and waited for the ideal opportunity to strike. Very quickly it arose - he took Kakarott's kick to the side at the same time as he launched the single largest attack he had ever unleashed directly into his face.

'FINAL SHINE ATTACK!'

The attack was so forceful that it also blew Vegeta backwards out of the sky and he noticed two things at once – the attack was an incredible success and he wouldn't be surprised if he had seriously wounded or even killed Kakarott, and that the kick he'd taken to deliver it had got him a lot harder than he'd expected.

He slammed onto an island of rock surrounded by the red glow of the planet's core, and saw his own light go out. He raised his hand, which felt as heavy as lead and knew all the Super-anything had been knocked out of him. He tried to breathe and discovered even that to be incredibly difficult. Pain immobilised his right side. When he took a breath he heard an alarming gurgle from his own lungs. Great. Broken ribs. Punctured lung.

As the light and smoke from his attack faded he saw Kakarott's figure still there, smoking and trembling. The man came closer, and he looked in poor form, but he was still Super Saiyan 3.

'Wow Vegeta, that was pretty intense! I'm not sure I'd have been able to stand up to that on a bad day!' said Kakarott once he was in earshot.

'Are you kidding me?' said Vegeta, choking slightly on the blood that was beginning to foam up on his breath. Wasn't it enough to have survived everything he'd thrown at him? Did he need to mock him too? He'd been looking death and defeat in the face for hours, and Kakarott was just playing with him. He couldn't stand it any longer. 'Finish it already!' He gathered one last fistful of energy – a pitiful thing really - and threw it at Kakarott. He only meant to provoke him into a final fatal attack, but instead he hit him in the chest and Kakarott went out like a light bulb, falling out of the sky to land on top of him.

Kakarott's head landed square in Vegeta's stomach and knocked what little air was left in him, out. As he gasped and choked he wondered if it was his fate to be killed by a direct and accidental strike from the bonehead. Kakarott rolled off him and lay flat on his back, gasping himself.

'Well, like I said. Pretty intense. But I think it's time we took this fight to the next level.'

'What are you...talking about…' gods, it was so hard to breathe let alone talk, '...moron?'

'Well, any battle of ours would be incomplete without going to Super Saiyan level four, don't you think?'

Vegeta closed his eyes. 'You… _are_ …a…fucking moron. I can't stand. Can't breathe. And you're…toast.'

'I know. That's why I brought these.'

Vegeta felt him shove something small, smooth and familiar in his mouth. Despite the feeling that he'd just been personally violated by his enemy he crushed down on it, chewing it all up and swallowing. The rush of well-being was magical, as well as being completely unexpected. He grimaced at the tickling sensation of his rib bones being knitted back together.

'Senzu beans? You're a madman Kakarott.' He sat up and looked at his friend and rival sitting next to him, grinning with his own newly restored energy. The man's obvious glee was offensive. 'What do you think you're doing?'

'We couldn't end the fight there!'

'You realise we neither of us have tails, and I…I can't reach level 4 without the help of blutz rays.' It pained him to admit it, but Kakarott would know pretty soon anyway. 'You're just prolonging the inevitable.'

'Don't worry. I know a place.'

Kakarott didn't even ask him to follow him this time, he just reached out and put his hand on Vegeta's shoulder. In the next instant they were sitting on the cool, pale dust of another planet, lit by a bright white glow. Moonlight.

Vegeta felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. They stood and turned. A massive, glorious full moon filled his vision – it was twenty times the size of Earth's moon, and twenty times as bright – he felt his eyes go wide as its light entered them, transfixing him, climbing inside his body and remaking him.

'Aaaaaa…' was all he could say. The excitement was building somewhere about his knees and every hair on his body was standing up. The trickle of savage power seeped from his eyes into his brain and down his backbone. The last conscious sensation he had was that of his tail emerging from the base of his spine.

The Monkey was back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I am a review addict. Feed me with your reviews NOM NOM NOM!


	33. Demonic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Finished this chapter, and just in time. I'm trying to recover from a virus though, and as tired and fuzzy headed as Bulma is in this chapter, so I hope this and the next couple of chapters are up to my usual standard.

'Bulma, wake up!'

She looked around, confused. She was in the cockpit and Eighteen was frowning down at her, shaking her shoulder. How had she dozed off in the middle of what she was doing? Her forehead hurt where it had leant against the dashboard.

'Is the Kai here?'

'No. Sixteen is out smashing him around again. That Kai guy literally doesn't know what's hitting him!'

'Thanks for waking me.'

'Well, I can't sleep until you're finished, so I'm not going to let you snooze on the job.'

She'd just installed the wires and button for the cloaking device, assuming she got it back off Sixteen in one piece. She got out of the cockpit and climbed back down the step ladder, Eighteen following her with her arms crossed. Half the lights had been smashed in the melee, but it was still nearly as bright as a sports stadium night game in the hangar. She glanced at her watch, feeling dislocated from any real sense of time, or any real sense of real for that matter. It was nearly four in the morning.

She was just standing in front of the machine trying to decide what to do next when the Kai appeared right in front of her. He raised his hand, already holding an intense blue ball of energy. Eighteen stepped between them, deflecting the blast as he let loose, but it knocked her backwards into Bulma, and the two women tumbled to the floor.

'Ooof!' said Bulma as she the weight of Eighteen landed on top of her. The girl sure wasn't as petit as she looked.

The Kai yelled in surprise though and appeared to twist sideways in the air.

'Sorry I let him get away,' said Sixteen's disembodied voice, and then the Kai shot upwards like a meteor, his arms and legs waving wildly.

'Gosh, that is _so_ funny,' said Eighteen as she rolled away. 'Are you all right?'

Bulma's eyes were watering from the bang she'd taken on the back of her head from the concrete floor, and was struggling to get her breath after Eighteen had knocked it out of her.

'Not really,' she gasped.

Eighteen reached down and pulled her up by the hands and helped her onto the couch. Bulma had to laugh, despite the pain. The girl actually looked concerned for her.

'What?' said Eighteen, grumpily.

'Eighteen, why are you even here? You said it yourself; you're over this. Why are you sticking it out to the bitter end?'

Eighteen raised her chin and looked down on her with her more usual attitude restored. 'If it comes to the bitter end, I'm bailing on you, just to be clear!'

'Of course.' Bulma had expected no more. 'Still…Why are you helping me?'

Eighteen shrugged. 'I guess…because everything had got so… _boring_.'

She sat down on the end of the couch next to Bulma.

'And this is interesting?'

'Yeah. Well, it's different. For so long it was just me and Seventeen all the time and no-one else to talk to. It was fun at first, getting our revenge, but then…man. It was _so_ dull. These last ten years or so…I've just wanted to _do_ something else, _be_ someone else. And then Vegeta came along and kicked our asses, and suddenly it _was_ different.'

'I know what you mean. He's certainly changed things around here.'

'When he said that I could change, I didn't really believe him, but I wanted to. I didn't know how to start. I thought it was hopeless. I mean, you still hated us, and so did everyone else we tried talking to. You wanted him to kill us, I haven't forgotten.'

'Yeah, I know. But I'm really glad now that he didn't listen to me.'

Eighteen gave her a sideways smile, meant to be withering, but wasn't quite. 'Well, then you fixed Seventeen, and that was maybe the first time that someone hasn't wished me and my brother dead. I realised that things already _were_ changing. And so now, I'm doing things I thought I'd never do. Like protecting your weak human self.'

Bulma felt abashed. Vegeta had been right all along about Sixteen, Seventeen and Eighteen. 'Thanks.'

'I'm sorry I killed Gohan.'

Bulma felt her heart lurch at her words. 'Well, probably not as sorry as I am,' she whispered bitterly.

'Uh. That's right, he was your friend wasn't he?' Eighteen glanced quickly at her and away. 'Gohan was determined to kill us. He _hated_ us. And it felt like there was no other choice but to try and kill him first. And all the others. Kill them before they can kill you. But now I wonder, if Vegeta had come earlier, if it could have all been different. Maybe we could even have been friends with Gohan.'

Bulma stared at her, not trusting herself to speak.

Eighteen turned and looked out at the hangar and they sat in silence for a while before she spoke again.

'Vegeta said Trunks would be much stronger when he returned, much stronger than me.'

'With any luck,' said Bulma.

Eighteen looked back over her shoulder at her. 'When you get him back, you won't let him kill me and Seventeen will you?'

Bulma experienced something she'd never expected to ever – sympathy for this android. Just a little. 'No. I won't.'

* * *

He wrestled his opponent, tooth, nail and raw fury. His thick fur protected him from the worst of the other giant monkey's scratches and bites, and the blasts of energy from each other's mouths barely registered. They rolled in the desert, hell bent on nothing but the destruction of the other, no reason, no sense of time, and no witnesses save the glare of the moon.

The moon - pale and beautiful like her.

He'd forgotten something, like his name. What was he doing here? There was a Woman, and something he needed to do…

'Vegeta,' he roared. 'My name is Vegeta!'

The other ape battled on furiously but Vegeta batted him off, transforming into his golden form.

'Kakarott, control yourself!' he boomed, his voice massive and impossibly deep. His words had no effect. 'Kakarott! Remember who you are!' The fool didn't recognise his own name. 'Goku! Goku! Remember who you are!'

The other monkey shook his head to rid it of the annoying conscious thoughts, like they were bees.

'Think you fool!'

Kakarott breathed hard, glaring at him, and then slowly stood straight, turning golden. Satisfied that he was now under control Vegeta gathered himself in, concentrating himself down into that ultimate form – super Saiyan level 4. Kakarott followed his lead.

'You always were better at that part than I was,' he told Vegeta when they both stood in the dust as men again.

Vegeta folded his arms smugly. 'I have the more disciplined mind, that's why.'

Kakarott smiled. 'That may be so. None of my masters have complimented my powers of concentration.'

'Don't you mean your mental capacity?'

'Well, I can see you want to get this fight started.'

'That's why we're here isn't it?'

Kakarott's smile grew into a grin, his red ringed eyes and wild hair making him look demented and savage. 'Sure is!'

This form was far more controlled and stable than level 3. As they fought Vegeta felt the power behind it like a massive lake, and he was the dam holding it back, letting it out as needed in precise and measured doses of violence. The power was controlled, and his emotions, but that didn't mean he was completely himself. The urge to do battle was overwhelming. He found himself chuckling with deranged pleasure at every engagement - even taking hits was nearly as enjoyable as landing them.

Vegeta took them to a planet the size of Jupiter just to throw Kakarott off with the added gravity. The next time Kakarott got his hands on Vegeta he took them to a planet where the sun roasted them from nearby, massive in the sky. All the while the power of their attacks crept up, and every step up Kakarott took, Vegeta was able to match, until finally Vegeta sensed that Kakarott had plateaued…

 _I have a chance to win this_ , he realised. _I can match him at this level! I'll do it at last!_ And then Bulma, Trunks, the babe, a new life here…it would all be within his grasp.

He fought with everything, the promise of victory so close, but Kakarott held on, tenacious. Everything Vegeta threw at him he was able to survive, evade or match.

'Crap! Lay down dead already Kakarott!' he muttered, all the while aware that the massive lake of power he held back was shrinking, being used up at a phenomenal rate by his level four transformation.

One energy cannon that missed Kakarott headed into the heart of the sun, and it shuddered, belching, preparing to supernova. As it bloomed enormous and bore down on them, both Saiyans transmitted themselves elsewhere. Vegeta crouched in the desert on a planet that he had cleared for Frieza a lifetime ago, waiting for Kakarott to come to him, alert for the slightest whisper of his energy.

As seconds and then minutes passed he knew that something was up - Kakarott was expecting an ambush, or was possibly laying in wait for Vegeta to come to him. A stand off. Vegeta gathered his energies, still hoping that Kakatott would come to him. He could feel him on the other side of the galaxy, hopping from planet to planet.

'What are you playing at?' he wondered aloud, debating whether he should follow him. Suddenly the torch of Kakarott's energy came much closer, on that planet, but hundreds of miles away. His power lit up the other side of the continent. Vegeta rushed towards him – at this level the journey was almost as fast as instant transmission – but stopped as a bright ball of beautiful white light dawned over the horizon, and it wasn't the sun.

'What is that?' he gasped. It was coming towards him whatever it was.

'Spirit bomb,' said a voice right behind him.

Vegeta spun, not sure how Kakarott had managed to get so close to him without him noticing. They fought again, wildly hand to hand, but Kakarott got a grip on him, first by his tail and then by his leg. The desperation with which he hung to him made Vegeta suspect Kakarott's intentions and he struggled the harder. He kicked him viciously in the head with his free leg, tore at the other man's hands, and launched deadly blasts of chi directly into his body, but though Kakarott was screaming in pain he didn't let go. Vegeta twisted round to see the intense white light of the spirit bomb come flying at both of them. Kakarott was bearing them both right into the heart of it.

'You fool, you'll kill us both!' he yelled. Truthfully, he wasn't sure how much damage a spirit bomb of that size would do to their Super Saiyan 4 bodies, but he'd seen the damn things destroy unbeatable enemies enough times to know he didn't want to test it with his own flesh.

'Deflect it – if you can!' yelled Kakarott in his ear, cementing his grip, wrapping his legs around Vegeta from behind.

He was about to transmit himself out of there when Kakarott began punching him in the side of the head. The first two knocks made it hard to concentrate, but the third knocked him senseless for a fraction of a second and he felt the crackling white heat of the spirit bomb close on him. Too late to transmit!

Vegeta got his hands up to deflect it, fearing it was useless. His hands sunk in deep and the heat wrapped around him, but the blinding light pierced right through him with its rays. He screamed, feeling the touch of a million beings' energies rip past him, tugging on him, getting in his mouth, in his nose, in his brain…and in his heart, and there it _hurt_ , a caustic burn eating out something in his very centre, but finally he was able to feel something to push back against. He pushed it up, over his head and then it was gone, flying off into the sky.

Kakarott still hung on to him, gasping, but then laughing. Vegeta took stock – he felt no different from before he deflected the bomb, aside from a burning ache still in his chest, which he rubbed gingerly. His power level was the same. He didn't seem injured.

He shook off Kakarott, and rounded on him, flinging a jab at him, trying to knock him back into sense.

'Whatever you were attempting there Kakarott, it failed entirely!'

'No,' said Kakarott, still laughing, 'it didn't.'

Over his shoulder Vegeta saw the great ball of pure energy burst its way out of the atmosphere leaving a ragged hole into the darkness of space, its light shrinking as it headed away from them. Kakarott swivelled to see it too, and the ball shattered into a million shafts, streaking back out across the galaxy to its origins.

'Thank you,' said Kakarott quietly.

Vegeta got his attention back with a right hook that knocked him into a cartwheel. Vegeta went after him and Kakarott immediately turned to fend him off.

'Didn't work at all Kakarott,' taunted Vegeta, laying into him with a series of kicks. 'If anything I'm stronger!' This was a bluff, but it wasn't far off the truth.

'Have you forgotten how spirit bombs work Vegeta? They can't be fended off by those who are evil, or have evil in their hearts.'

Vegeta's punch swung short as he computed this. 'What –'

He didn't get a chance to finish the question though as Kakarott chose this moment to stop defending and fight back. He took a fist in the chin that would have knocked him into orbit if Kakarott hadn't appeared above him and got a knee in his middle.

He plummeted to the ground like a rock, trying to draw breath again, but stopped himself before he got there, spinning on his back on a cushion of chi. That was a serious hit. He wasn't sure he felt like coming back from that one yet, nor from the puzzle that Kakarott had put in his mind. What was it about this form that made it so hard to think of anything but fighting? He tried to put aside the planning of his next attack in order to ask his question.

'What do you mean Kakarott? What succeeded?'

The clown grinned back at him, not pursuing the fight either. 'You aren't evil. No matter what you or the Kaioshin think, no matter what bad decisions you've made. You don't have an evil heart, or you wouldn't have been able to avoid the spirit bomb.'

Vegeta decided not to mention that he was still suffering a glowing ache right where his heart lived. And then understanding trickled in.

'Were you _testing_ me Kakarott? How dare you…judge me! Who do you think you are, King Yamma now?'

'No. I was pretty sure it wouldn't hurt you already. I could tell you aren't a bad person – I have been fighting you all day, so I should know. You're still the Vegeta I knew. But now you know too, no matter what you think you've done.'

'Did I not say I wasn't motivated by evil?'

'You did. But I can tell, you feel bad about it anyway.'

Vegeta clutched the pain over his heart again. His guilt gave a monstrous squirm at being exposed this way, and a flush of shame crept up his face, followed swiftly by anger.

'How dare you! How dare you presume to know _me,_ you third class freak!' He came at him, and Kakarott fled now. Vegeta followed him, halfway around the planet before he caught up to him and got his arm around his throat. 'What makes you think you can come here and foist your absolution on me like some two-bit charlatan head-shrink!'

Kakarott was turning red in the face but he managed to ask 'Abso-what?'

'Oh forget it!'

Kakarott slipped the hold again and floated apart from Vegeta, tensed for his next move.

'Sorry, I really didn't think you'd be so angry about the spirit bomb thing.'

Vegeta was busy calculating how much power it would take to tear Kakarott's arms off. 'That trick didn't buy you out of a bloody death, that's for sure.'

Kakarott smiled, and Vegeta suddenly changed targets, going for a blow to smash the fool's teeth out. It connected in a fraction of the time it takes to blink, but Kakarott managed to turn his head so that Vegeta's fist only slid across his jaw and caught him in the ear. Vegeta didn't have time to feel surprised before Kakarott's elbow plowed into the back of his neck. He tumbled head over heels in the air until he halted himself, feeling a little ill from that last.

'Look, we could do this all night and all tomorrow, but I think we should really get back now, don't you?' Kakarott said.

'Back?'

'I know you left Bulma with Sixteen and Eighteen, and I think they'll do the job of keeping her safe from Kibito Kai, but I wouldn't want to leave it too long.'

'You'll save her?' Vegeta felt relief and then astonishment sweep over him. 'We? _We_ should get back?'

'Sure, you didn't think I was going to let one of my best friends die do you? I know the Kaioshin have their reasons, but it's not right – you told me she hasn't even done anything wrong yet. And even if she had, I don't believe _Bulma_ could ever be capable of evil.'

'And me?'

'The Eastern Supreme Kai told me you'd turned evil again, and told me to kill you, but I had to make sure. Now I know – he was wrong. I won't kill you either. And I'm glad. You're still my friend after all.'

Vegeta felt like his jaw might unhinge from his face with incredulity. 'What about this battle Kakarott!'

'Our Saiyan Death Match Tournament? Um, postpone it?'

'I've been labouring under the impression we've been trying to kill each other all day! What the hell were _you_ doing Kakarott?'

'Fighting?'

'But not trying to kill me?'

'Well, not seriously enough to actually kill you, but kind of nearly.'

Vegeta moved so he was directly in front of Kakarott and then sucker-punched him right in the gut.

Kakarott whooped and gasped about.

'That's for not trying to kill me!' yelled Vegeta. Seeing Kakarott doubled up in pain did somewhat alleviate his rage though, as did the sudden thought of Bulma fighting off the Kai back at the Capsule Compound.

'To be honest, I didn't even get a chance to nearly kill you, Vegeta,' gasped Kakarott. 'So I guess it's kind of a draw.'

'A DRAW! Unbelievable, Kakarott! How can a death match end in a draw?'

'Rematch then? But not yet. Say, fifty or sixty years from now? We've both got other stuff to do – you're going to be a Dad again Vegeta!'

Vegeta crossed his arms, mastering his anger and smiling reluctantly. Kakarott's words were unfurling a new and happy vista inside of him. A Dad again. 'Agreed.'

'Come on, Vegeta, you must admit it was fun.'

'Yes, _fun_ is the word I was looking for,' he replied sarcastically. And then he laughed. 'Yes Kakarott, it _was_ fun. More fun than I've had in years.'

Kakarott's grin turned into a frown again though.

'I don't know what to do about the time machine though. I think I might have to destroy it.'

Vegeta felt his insides go hard with dread again.

'No, Kakarott, she'll never get Trunks back.'

'I know, Vegeta. But I've seen the damage that time travel has done. The Kai _are_ right about that.'

'Please, Kakarott, for her, just a few jumps, and then we destroy the machine.'

Kakarott's frown trembled. 'I really like Trunks, and I feel sorry for him and Bulma, but if you knew the things they'd shown me you'd stop her.'

'No, Kakarott, if you knew the things _I_ knew, you'd let her do it.' Gods, it was such an effort talking in this form! He could see from Kakarott's frown that he was having trouble focusing too.

Kakarott raised his hand to his head, and fearing that Kakarott was about to transmit himself away Vegeta leapt on him, wrapping arms and legs around him and pinning Kakarott's hands to his sides.

'No!'

'Vegeta,' he said, angry, 'we can't take this fight back to the lab. We'd probably destroy the whole neighbourhood and Bulma too trying to settle this.'

'Of course not. So to save time, you agree not to destroy the machine here and now, and then we go.'

Kakarott didn't answer. Vegeta glared into his face, nearly nose to nose, seeing the struggle it was for Kakarott to come up with a way out of this situation. An idea occurred to him. He had the better mental discipline. He had the greatest investment in this decision. He could persuade from the inside out.

'Kakarott, you know what you know, and I know what I know…add that together, and what do we have?'

'What are you talking about, Vegeta?'

'We could let _him_ decide.'

* * *

Eighteen yawned. Bulma saw it out the corner of her eye and yawned too. She wondered if Sixteen yawned. Probably not. She looked in the direction she thought he was and asked him 'Are you okay, buddy?'

'Yes. I am in moderate operational order.'

'Oh, excellent.'

Bulma had one major task left – the creation of a remote device with data back up. She still needed to install the cloaking device and the power source from the lab, but it was not morning yet, and unplugging the power source would plunge the hangar into darkness, plus she wanted Sixteen to remain invisible for as long as possible. She'd have to do those two things last.

The Kai had not attacked for a while now. Eighteen was sure it was fear of Sixteen's unbreakable defence, but Sixteen himself was less optimistic for once.

'I feel he is waiting for something.'

Bulma had not thought much about the remote she now realised. She had no real design or internal architecture in mind, only the frequencies that she had built in to the machine to communicate with it. She needed to come up with this from scratch. She looked at the mattress, feeling it spread out arms of welcoming comfort to her. She needed _sleep_.

On the mattress rested the small black rectangle of Sixteen's communicator. He had taken it off. If they had tried to communicate with him while he was playing the invisible man it would have given his location away, and the units hadn't proved very useful that day and night anyway. Bulma reached into the pocket of her jeans, and fished out her own com unit. Was it now useless? The third unit was with Vegeta. If she hailed him would he answer? The thought was tantalising, as if he was just on the other end of the line, waiting for her next fetch and carry task like before. She flicked it open, finger over the hail button.

And what would she do when he didn't answer? When there was just dead silence on the other end of the line?

She flipped it closed again and threw it down next to its partner on the bed. Not yet. She couldn't give in yet. Not until Trunks was home.

She was still staring at the mattress debating whether to try and get a nap in or continue when she felt a presence as palpable as an electric shock behind her. She had a terrible sense of chi, she knew it, and yet this thing blazed behind her, bringing goosebumps out on her skin. She heard both the androids gasp as she turned and knew it wasn't just her tired mind.

Oh god, what now?

A savage monster-god stood on the lip of the hangar. His aura of power was massive, licking out wide from him in a heat haze of gold tinted chi, sparkling and popping with intensity. Had the crust of the Earth opened up and dropped her straight into the Demon Realm?

'Nnnnnnnhhh!' Bulma tried to scream while she still had her jaw clamped shut in fear. Eighteen was swearing, Sixteen roared, though she couldn't see him. Eighteen leapt at the figure and froze just a few inches off the ground. Gently she was pushed by an invisible force, away and out towards the wall. Bulma supposed the same thing was happening to Sixteen because she heard his voice from half way across the hangar.

'Bulma, run!'

She tried, but like the other two, she met a sensation like invisible hands slowing and turning her. Whatever this was, she wasn't getting away from it.

The figure levitated gently to the floor of the hangar. He wore otherworldly clothes – white pantaloons, blue waist sash and a black waistcoat with gold embellished shoulders. At first she though he was wearing a brown shirt open at the chest, but then realised it was thick fur that covered the rest of his torso and arms down to his knuckles. He also had a tail. As bizarre as all this was, his face was the truly scary part. Under masses of spiky red hair he had a disturbingly handsome face. His blue eyes stared, ringed with black and completely crazy. His smile was hard and vicious. And all his attention was focused on her.

His nostrils flared, and he took a deep breath in.

'Vegeta was right about you,' he said. His voice was an inhuman double tone, suggesting two beings at once, two emotions at once. Bulma had the sense of having just had her privacy invaded, like a public frisking. The thing, whatever it was, seemed an unholy blend of monkey, Adonis and demon. She wondered if the invisible force would prevent her knees from going from under her as they turned to jelly, and soon found herself on the floor. Both the androids were still yelling, but Bulma only had attention for the threat in front of her.

'Who are you? _What_ are you?'

He grinned wider. 'Gogeta. Legendary Super Saiyan, level 4, the most powerful warrior in the universe at your service,' he bowed mockingly.


	34. Home Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I have a compulsion to post new stuff as soon as it's ready now. Eh, I was going to wait until tomorrow, but then I figured, this is a shortish chapter.

'Gogeta. Legendary Super Saiyan, level 4, the most powerful warrior in the universe at your service,' he bowed.

Bulma took a deep shuddering breath. Super Saiyan level 4? What the hell was that?

'Who sent you? The Kai?'

'No. I came of my own accord.'

'Where is Vegeta?'

'He is with me.'

'And Goku?'

'He is with me also.'

He made no sense at all! 'Where? I can't see them.'

He advanced on her. His aura was licking at her knees now, tickling and fizzing. Bulma struggled up to her feet again, but still couldn't step away from him.

'They are me and I am they, but I am something of my own.'

She just stared at him, unable to think of a suitable question to counter his nonsense. Did he mean he'd eaten them? She could believe it looking at him. His eyes were absolutely capturing. She found she couldn't look away from them their unhinged depths; she was transfixed with terror.

'They couldn't decide what to do here, so they sent me to decide for them. I don't know why they sent me like this though, I can hardly think straight.' He continued forward until he stood only four feet from her. For a normal person it would have been a rather formal distance to conduct a conversation from, but with this guy Bulma felt like she was deep inside his personal space, and she wanted out. This sexy, crazy horror show weirded her out almost as much as he terrified her.

'Right. And when will Vegeta be back then?' It was too much to hope that he was telling the truth. She still thought it more likely that this monster had killed Vegeta. 'Because I'd really like to talk to him.'

'He'll be here soon. But I have something I gotta do first.'

Suddenly the aura rolled off him in a sweeping curtain of heat and his body grew intensely bright for a second. When this calmed down she saw he had become something that she recognised as a Super Saiyan, but by far the ugliest she had ever seen. He had no eyebrows and an enormous mane of golden hair down his back. Luckily he didn't stay like that, and with another release of energy the eyebrows returned and his hair became a shorter crown of spikes – rather similar to what Vegeta looked like after his first tangle with Kibito Kai. His presence grew less immense also, and Bulma began to ease off on the adrenalin.

Finally with one last release of energy he settled into something like what she expected a Super Saiyan to look like. He still wore the weird clothes, but when she looked at his face she felt herself wanting to trust him. He looked very familiar, and a lot like both Vegeta and Goku. He was also the most breathtakingly good-looking man she had ever seen. And since when had a handsome glowing golden man let her down?

He smiled, a totally normal and sane smile, and she smiled back nervously.

'That's better,' he said, still with his strange multi-toned voice. 'I can actually think now.' Then he seemed to notice the way she was trembling and android Eighteen still flailing at empty air. 'I'm no harm to you. There's no way I would want to harm any of you. After I'm done here I'm going straight to the Planet of the Kais. It's not right the way they're handling this.'

Both the androids were released from their invisible bonds, although she only guessed Sixteen was by the way the stamping of his boots came towards her.

'Stay still Bulma Briefs; we cannot trust him yet,' said Sixteen's voice over her shoulder. 'Vegeta bid us to protect you and the time machine, but he made no mention of this person.'

Gogeta looked surprised. 'An invisible foe! I haven't come across one of those for years.'

'Are you related to Vegeta or Goku?' Bulma asked, still marvelling at his face.

He laughed. 'To both of them. I'm a fusion.'

'A _what?_ '

'Fusion. No matter, you'll see.' He looked past her to the time machine. 'So that's it is it? Nearly done.' He held up a hand and a small pink ball of chi sprang up in his palm, spinning with destructive energy.

'No!' screamed Bulma, putting herself right in front of his brandished hand. Sixteen yelled too. Gogeta's face remained calm, but suddenly his cheek deformed and his head twitched sideways slightly. This was accompanied by a solid, metallic sounding thunk. Gogeta turned his head towards Sixteen's voice and narrowed his eyes. There was another sound of impact, but Gogeta was completely unaffected this time.

'Fight me stranger,' said Sixteen's voice. 'Leave Bulma Briefs alone.'

Gogeta closed his eyes and suddenly snatched out his hand, catching something in his fist. He then pushed with his other hand, slowly, like he was performing Tai- Chi, and Bulma heard Sixteen's boots as they scraped back along the ground away from them.

Eighteen screamed and flew out of the hangar. As Gogeta turned back to Bulma she rather thought that Eighteen had the right idea. This was no ordinary Super Saiyan. She'd bet her last set of matching underwear that this guy was even more hideously powerful as a Super Saiyan than Vegeta. But Bulma was invested completely in her machine. She wouldn't go anywhere.

'Please don't hurt my friend!' she begged. 'Or my time machine!'

He raised his hand again, and again she stepped right in front of it.

He smiled at her, a sad smile. 'You've had a hard life Bulma. It's hard to cause you more sorrow.' He reached up with his other hand and smoothed the hair back from her face. Bulma felt like bursting into tears. How could he look so understanding and familiar, yet want to destroy her machine? The ball of pink chi sprang to life again between his hand and her heart. She looked at it, and then at him again, her tears spilling over.

'Don't do it! It's the only way for me to get my son back!'

'I know. That's why it's so hard.'

She captured his hand where it lay on her shoulder after he stroked her hair.

'You may as well kill me too if you're going to destroy it.' She wasn't sure if she meant it, but she was counting on him to keep his word that he didn't want to hurt her. She took a deep breath and stepped right into his palm. The heat of chi stung her for an instant and then was gone, and his hand was pressed flat up against her heart. She pressed her own hand on top of it. She knew it would in no way hold him back from doing whatever he damn well pleased, but at least he would see how much the machine meant to her.

Gogeta's sad smile was gone now, his brows were knitted and his mouth downturned. 'The Kai are wrong to want to kill you and Vegeta,' he said. 'But they're not wrong to want to rid the universe of time travel. It's bad, Bulma. It's a never ending cascade of branching universes, and for each successful trip there are ten that go wrong, and no matter how they turn out they all cause more damage.'

Bulma began to cry. 'That's what they said, but I don't care! All I see is _my_ universe, and how much it doesn't have my son in it. I'm so close to having him back!'

Gogeta looked back at the machine and then at her again. His face was anguished. 'The Kaioshin see. It's their duty as immortal guardians to undo the damage. They're trying to protect us all. Humans…Saiyans, we're not cut out for time travel. Our hearts and minds and souls aren't designed to live in a multiverse. That's what we don't understand. That's why we shouldn't do it. That's why it hurts so much.'

He looked searchingly at Bulma, his aqua eyes looking deep into her. She felt like she knew him, really, really knew him, like an old friend. She saw his resolve break, and the anguish was gone. The golden light slipped away from him, and now he stood in front of her as just a black haired, black eyed Saiyan.

'That's why I can't do it,' he said. 'I'm just a mortal Saiyan too. Even knowing what I know it makes no more sense to my heart to deny you your son than it does to you. I love you too much, Bulma.'

Bulma gasped with relief, sagging towards the ground with it. Gogeta caught her by her elbows and kept her up.

'Thank you! Thank you!' she said. And then the strangeness of what he'd said sank in. He loved her?

He laughed. He looked even more familiar than ever without his gold aura and hair. 'Don't thank me. I can't believe they let it get this far.'

'What will the Kai do now?'

'Well, they sent Goku, and that was their last ditch attempt, but they'll think of something eventually. If I were you I wouldn't wait too long before retrieving Trunks. In the meantime I'll have a chat with the-'

Suddenly Gogeta was ripped in half. Bulma screamed and fell to the ground, backing away on her hands and feet. But the two halves both had two arms, two legs and a head each. She rubbed her eyes, convinced that the stress had finally driven her mad. Vegeta and Goku stood before her, both looking like crap with their clothes ripped to rags and hanging off them, both battered, bruised and bloody.

Vegeta turned to Goku and said 'I told you we should have powered down _before_ fusing, idiot.'

'You – you two were in _one_ body?' she said. ' _Fused?'_

'Not just bodies,' said Goku brightly. 'Our minds too!'

'I can't believe I had to share a brain with you _again!_ ' said Vegeta, his lip curling with disgust.

'But Vegeta, it was _your_ idea!'

'From necessity only! Stop talking about it already, it's making my skin crawl!'

Now convinced it was really Vegeta, Bulma scrambled back up and launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around him and nearly knocking him over. He grunted but hugged her back.

He pulled back slightly to look her in the face. 'Are you okay, Woman?'

Bulma laughed and immediately broke down into tears. She couldn't believe he was alive!

'Yes! Are you okay? I thought you were dead!' She would have kissed him but the corners of his mouth and his chin and shirt were covered with dried blood. His chin was bruised purple and he had a split above his eyebrow that was still weeping blood half-heartedly. She realised he was breathing with some difficulty and she stopped squeezing him so hard. He chuckled. She didn't quite see what was so funny.

'Seriously, Vegeta, are you all right?'

'You should see the other guy,' he said, putting his arm around her shoulders and leaning on her.

Reminded of his presence she turned to see Goku watching them both, a great grin of fondness on his face. He did indeed look as rough as Vegeta. His gi was ripped down to the waist, ragged at the knees, and he was covered in patches of pink and purple bruises. There was dried blood down one side of his face from a cut on his head, and one eye was swelling shut.

'I've got to admit,' he said, 'back when Trunks first told me who his parents were I thought that there was no way in hell that they two of you were going to work out. But now I can say, you two always make the cutest couple!'

'Cute!' snapped Vegeta, but Bulma laughed. Her friend hadn't changed at all.

'Goku!'

'Goku?' came an enraged voice form the other end of the hangar. 'GOKU!'

Bulma suddenly knew what was going to happen, but didn't have enough time to warn him – Goku was suddenly smacked sideways by an invisible punch. Energy erupted out of thin air, obliterating Goku from sight in a ball of sizzling power.

'Sixteen, NO!' Bulma screamed as Vegeta pulled her back, away from the fight. When the light died down Goku straightened, back in Super Saiyan form.

'Sixteen? _Android_ Sixteen?' said Goku, looking around.

'Goku must be destroyed!' roared Sixteen, sounding completely unlike his usual calm self. Goku suddenly flinched from some unseen kick or punch, and then threw one punch himself towards the place Sixteen's voice had come from. It connected with a nasty sound.

'Goku, don't hurt him! He's my friend!' she cried. God, why had she made an android invisible again? She left Vegeta and ran to where she could just make out a smudge of shadow on the floor.

'Woman, what do you think you're doing?' barked Vegeta, but she had already found Sixteen with her hands. She reached up and grabbed the backpack and he dragged her forwards, continuing his attack on Goku. She clambered up Sixteen's back, using his legs and butt as footholds, searching for the zipper to the backpack. She could see right through Sixteen to Goku, who looked alarmed, raised one fist tentatively and punched right towards her face. Sixteen was shunted backwards, and Bulma found herself in a sandwich as Vegeta had come up behind and got his arms around her.

'Do you want to be killed, Woman?' he roared. 'Get out of his way!'

He pulled her away, but Bulma had her fingers inside the backpack now, and she held on with all her might. As Vegeta tore her from Sixteen's back the seams of the backpack split, and Sixteen winked into view. The cloaking device hit the floor and the battery went in another direction – both now visible.

Goku, now able to see what he was doing, punched Sixteen right back down the length of the hangar. Sixteen bounced off the floor and tumbled with force into the wall.

'Goku, please don't kill him, he saved my life today!' she shouted.

Goku frowned. 'I don't really want to hurt him. It's not his fault he wants to kill me.' Then he concentrated, pointed two fingers and shot five golden rings of chi at Sixteen. Instead of exploding they wrapped around his feet and neck, securing him to the wall.

'Release me!' yelled Sixteen.

Goku laughed nervously. 'I learnt that one from you, Vegeta. Remember?'

'Yes, I remember. Very funny, Kakarott.'

Goku powered down again and walked over to them. Bulma felt overwhelmed looking at his cheerful face.

'I thought you were sent to kill us,' she said.

'Well, just because I get an order, doesn't mean I have to follow it!'

Sixteen roared again, making Bulma jump. It had been so long since she'd been scared by Sixteen, but it was like he was another robot altogether.

'What will the Kai do now?' she asked Goku.

'I'm not sure.' He closed his eyes, and concentrated. 'I can feel them all back on the Planet of the Kai now, watching.'

'Will you get in trouble with them?'

Goku grinned. 'I don't know. But I'm going to go back there and tell the Supreme Kais that they're in the wrong.'

'But you can't get to the Planet of the Kais, can you?'

' _He_ can,' said Vegeta. 'It's me that can't go there.'

Bulma looked over her shoulder to give him a quizzical look. He was smiling wickedly.

'It's kind of a Heavenly restraining order,' he said, and Bulma suddenly imagined Vegeta, a fox in the chicken run, tearing divine beings to shreds. It should have disgusted her, but instead she laughed.

'Boy, have I missed you two,' said Goku over the din of Sixteen's unabating promises of murder.

'Are you the same Goku from my timeline?' she asked.

'No. More like Vegeta's.'

'Why do you say you miss us then?'

'Because I haven't seen you for about a hundred and thirty years.'

Bulma and Vegeta both gasped.

'What happened, Goku?' she asked.

'I got stuck helping out Shenron with something for a while. By the time I was done everyone I knew had died of old age. Except Dende and Mr Popo and the Kaioshin.'

'A _while?_ But Goku, that's awful! Chichi…Gohan…' Her heart squeezed for him. If ever there was a fate worse than the one she suffered through it might be this. She reached out her hand to him, but she couldn't reach. Vegeta still had a hand around her, leaning heavily on her. She was suddenly distracted from her sympathy for Goku by a trickle of alarm triggered by Vegeta's lack of animation. Goku came close enough to take her hand and give it a squeeze.

'Yeah, I know. Goten too, even Pan. By the way, if you ever get any dragonballs back, don't overuse them. Emergency world-saving use only, understand? Vegeta will tell you.'

'But how are you still alive Goku? How old are you?'

'Well, it's a long story, but I got made a kid again. And then I didn't age for the hundred years I was with Shenron. I'm not really sure how old I am.'

'Huh, what's changed?'

'But I think I must be getting close to two hundred.'

'Two hundred!' Bulma burst into tears, no longer able to process any of this. 'That's ridiculous!'

Vegeta chuckled in her ear. 'I thought you'd gained a slightly longer perspective, Kakarott.'

'Well, I've seen a lot of stuff now. And I keep myself busy, doing things for King Kai and Dende and even the Supreme Kai when they need it.'

Sixteen yelled into the pause following this. 'I will destroy you even if I must destroy myself to do it!'

Bulma went cold with fear as she remembered the bomb buried inside Sixteen. Programmed to detonate after power down or being incapacitated.

'Goku, he's got a bomb inside him! He'll blow this place sky high!'

'Oh sweet Kami-on-a-stick!' swore Vegeta. 'If I remember right, that bomb is powerful enough to destroy the whole planet.'

'He's still got that? Didn't you take it out yet, Bulma?' said Goku.

She looked at him, indignant. 'You weren't here for it to make a difference!'

'Oh. Well, I'd better make this quick then.' He pulled Bulma and Vegeta into a three-way hug, causing Vegeta to growl, and then kissed Bulma on the cheek. 'Bye you two. Good luck, okay? I'll see what I can do on my end.'

And then much too soon for Bulma, he was gone.

Instantly Sixteen's bonds dissolved and he raced back to where Goku had stood, looking all around.

'He's gone Sixteen,' yelled Vegeta. 'Gone where none of us can follow.' Sixteen flew up out of the hangar anyway, and then came back down to stand in his usual sentry spot, growling with repressed anger.

Bulma still couldn't stop the tears coming down her cheeks. Sixteen's reduction to mindless killing machine was just one more thing she couldn't handle today, and it had been a very long day indeed.

In contrast to her tears Vegeta was laughing. She stepped back and put her arm around Vegeta's waist. He moved his arm up to her shoulders, putting even more weight on her. She didn't like the way he was clutching his middle with his other hand.

'A draw, can you believe it?' he said. 'Who does that idiot think he was fooling? But next time, I _will_ beat him!'

'Whatever you say tough-guy. Let's get you cleaned up, okay?'

She glanced over at Sixteen.

'Hey you! Are you done with the homicidal jig you're on?'

Sixteen looked at her, and for a second she regretted saying anything. He still did not resemble himself. 'If Goku returns I will kill him.'

'Can you still guard the time machine in the meantime?'

'Affirmative.'

Turning back to Vegeta she saw how pale he was. Damn, the med lab was destroyed, and it was such a long way to the bathroom. He was still grinning, and as they took a few unsteady steps forward towards the door she had to wonder if he was punch-drunk. His knee gave way for a second and Bulma struggled to keep him upright before he managed to walk on.

'Hope the Kai doesn't try anything stupid right now,' he muttered. 'Uh oh.'

Suddenly he sagged forwards, his legs folding uselessly under him. Bulma staggered, trying not to drop him face down on the floor. She managed to let him slide to the ground without hitting his head. He flopped there, limp and unconscious.

'Sixteen!' she screamed, rolling Vegeta on his back and checking for a pulse. It was still there, beating away fast and weak. She ripped away the last shreds of his shirt and revealed the massive contusion that spread across his whole abdomen. The sight made her sick with fear. The fucking insane Saiyan was going fucking die of internal bleeding right in front of her just as they were about to limp over the finishing line! Thank God Korin had thought ahead!

'Vegeta is injured?' said Sixteen, finally seeming back in his right mind.

Bulma cursed the Kai who made it necessary for her to be babysat every single second of the day, even when it wasn't her who was in the most trouble.

'Pick him up and bring him over to the machine!'

She dashed back to the time machine with Sixteen on her heels carrying Vegeta in his two massive hands. She dove under the machine, heading for the detritus of the night's frenzied tech blitz. Amongst the tools, wires, her water flask and the empty soup thermos was a tiny leather pouch. She felt it's contents – a singular bean – Korin's last. He'd left it just in case. Thank that cat's glorious whiskers!

She slid to her knees at Vegeta's side as Sixteen put him on the floor. She pulled his mouth open and shoved the bean in between his molars. Then she pushed his jaw back shut again, trying to break the bean open. For a few seconds nothing happened. Bulma couldn't breath, feeling the panic filling her, about to be unleashed if the bastard didn't open his eyes right now!

He sighed, and started to chew the bean himself. Then he opened his eyes and looked at her, a smile spreading over his face.

She started crying again. God, it was a wonder she had any moisture still left in her body – it seemed like she'd spent most of the night crying. How could he be smiling like he hadn't almost died right in front of her? Fuck this night. She couldn't handle any more of this!

She bent forward and pressed her head to the cold concrete.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Yeah, I guess it's kind of only half a chapter, but with the other half it would be massive, and you'd be waiting longer for it. I'm not sure how long you'll have to wait for the next - knowing me, not that long. Don't forget to review! Or if you really like it, add me to your bookmarks or communities! Feed the author!


	35. Reunions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: What happened to all my guy reviewers? Are you still with me boys? Here's a nice meaty chapter with a bit of something for everyone I hope.

He sat up, looking with sympathy at the Woman beside him. She was on her elbows and knees, head down on the floor making a pitiful noise. Well, she was allowed to be a wreck now that he was back. He gathered her into his lap.

'I don't suppose you've got another one of those beans do you?' he asked, thinking to give her one, or at least a half. She shook her head.

'Korin – last – one!' she hiccupped out between her tears.

He sighed. 'You're a mess Woman. So am I. Let us clean ourselves up and rest.'

He carried her into the bathroom and turned the shower on. As she just stood there dumbly he wondered if he was going to have to strip her too, but when he pulled her t-shirt up over her head she got the idea, and undressed herself. As she climbed in, he wondered if she'd be all right by herself. But she wasn't falling down or fainting, and after a few minutes even the crying stopped. She got out, wrapping herself in the proffered towel, sniffling.

All his clothes were ruined, even his boots. He kicked them all aside into a ball and showered himself, the blood washing away down the drain with a red swirl and making him smile at the memory of the magnificent day. When he got out the Woman was doing her teeth and glaring at him like he was a madman. He could feel how weak her chi was. She needed to sleep.

Regretting again that they couldn't sleep in the bedroom, he led them back there to get fresh clothes. He put on the only item of Trunks's wardrobe that fit him well and wasn't ruined – the grey sweatpants. The Woman put on her oversized T-shirt. Vegeta approved of the way it only just covered her backside and the wide neck always threatened to slip off one shoulder, but suspected the Woman would not appreciate hearing this right now. They went back to the hangar, with extra clothes to wear when they got up, and Vegeta cleared off the mattress and sofa and reinstated sheets, blankets and pillows. Sixteen closed the hangar doors for them and turned off the lights, although some light was already showing through the holes in the roof. It would be dawn soon.

The Woman hit the sofa like a felled sapling and was asleep before she'd even pulled the blanket over herself. Vegeta did this for her, unable to stop smiling. She'd had a long night, but she'd got through it. He was proud of her.

He lay back on the mattress, not feeling sleepy himself after the senzu bean. Damn Kakarott really had gotten him good with the knee to his stomach. He must've ruptured something that slowly bled away until he'd finally lost consciousness. Unlucky on his part. But who did Kakarott think he was kidding? There was still clearly a difference between them, but he consoled himself with the thought that this Kakarott had over a hundred years experience on him. Perhaps, next time…

He laughed again to himself, looking up at the time machine above him. 'I'm going as soft in the head as Kakarott or something,' he speculated. He felt a lightness of heart that ha hadn't had for years, perhaps ever. What the hell had Kakarott done to him with the spirit bomb? He rubbed the spot over his heart that had burned in the bomb. The pain was all gone now, carried away by the senzu bean. Odd.

After a while the Woman jumped in her sleep. He ignored it, well acquainted with his mate's sleeping habits. But a minute or so later he noticed her breathing had changed. He sat up and saw she was rolled in a ball, shivering. She opened her eyes when she heard him move.

'Woman, what is wrong?'

* * *

She dreamt she was falling. Falling and falling through the night sky, flashes of lighting and chi blasts lighting her descent. Below was the Capsule Compound, racing up to meet her. There was the open hangar, like a mouth to swallow her.

Androids Sixteen and Eighteen flew around her, bravely fighting off the Supreme Kai. Suddenly Sixteen was ripped in half, and it wasn't mechanical parts that fell out of him, but blood and guts. Goku floated behind him dripping blood from his hands and face and laughing. She still fell, wondering why it was taking so long to hit the ground. Trunks appeared, wielding his sword and slicing Eighteen's head clear off.

She screamed 'No Trunks, don't do it!' but it was far too late. Next Trunks turned on Goku, and they fought viciously, and there was nothing she could do. The Kai was in her face again, but suddenly Vegeta was behind him, his arm around his neck.

'I'm going to kill you this time, Kai!' he hissed and heaved on the Kai's head, about to tear it from his shoulders. She screamed and turned away, not wanting to see the gentle Kai be savaged to death by Vegeta, no matter what he'd done to her. Below her the hanger finally reared up and inhaled her. She fell right at the sofa next to the machine, but she was falling far too fast for it to save her. She was going to die.

She jerked awake on the couch, knowing instantly it had been a dream, but it didn't really help. She was just waking from one nightmare to another not much better. Her heart was hammering with fear. Where was the Kai now? What was he planning? What had Goku said or done to him? She opened her eyes and made sure Vegeta was still lying next to her on the mattress. She started shivering; the feeling of impeding doom was only growing.

She heard Vegeta sit up and she looked at him, glad he was awake.

'Woman, what is wrong?' he said.

She laughed, but didn't feel any mirth. 'What is _not_ wrong, Vegeta?'

'Are you injured?'

'No. Just…scared.' She wondered if he'd be dismissive of her fear. He frowned, but didn't sneer or mock her. He held his hands out to her, and gratefully she took them. He pulled her off the sofa onto the mattress alongside him and wrapped his arms around her. She hadn't expected that, but the feeling of comfort and relief was immediate. Vegeta's arms – the safest place to be on the planet. Now he was here again, he'd get her through this day. He'd get her son back with her.

'Yesterday was a nightmare,' she said through chattering teeth, her fear easing, but leaving behind the sadness she felt, and the mixed up memories of the Kai's siege. She was afraid she was going to start crying again, and her next words tumbled out of her, trying to beat the tears. 'The Kai attacked us all day and all night while I worked on the machine. He nearly got me more than once. Sixteen and Eighteen were being worn down into the ground by him. And the whole time I thought you were dead, killed by Goku. Why'd you tell me you wouldn't make it? You and he are friends, even I could see that!'

'Because I thought he _was_ here to kill me. The Kai certainly intended it. And Kakarott himself took bloody long enough to decide _not_ to kill me, the idiot.'

'I can't believe that! How could anyone consider killing their friend?'

'Woman, it is both my and Kakarott's intent that one of us kill the other in the end. And when we get to that end, I plan for it to be _me_ standing over _his_ defeated body.'

She raised her head and looked at him in exasperation. He had changed so much, and yet this one thing remained absolutely the same – his insane rivalry with Goku. His friend. His freaking _best_ friend by the looks of it! And he was smiling as if he was contemplating some epic fishing trip with Goku, and not a fight to the death.

Kami save her from Saiyans!

She dropped her head to his shoulder, crying and laughing at the same time. He smelled wonderful after his shower, just the smell of his skin and hair and nothing more. Was this the last time she'd be close enough to smell it? Was this the last time he'd ever hold her in his arms? He seemed to have forgotten his rejection of her just a few days ago, and she was glad. He was a drug, and she couldn't wean herself off of him. She just wanted as much as she could get before her supply was cut off forever.

Her laughter slipped away into grief.

He stroked her hair and her back while she clung on harder to him, trying to stifle the weeping that was threatening to get out of hand.

'I'm sorry you thought I was dead. I'm sorry I wasn't here to help you,' he said. 'But it's over now Woman. We both came through our trials.'

Bulma choked at those words, thrown right back through the years to the night he had returned from space to meet his new son. She'd been crying that time as well, about being left alone by him, abandoned for a year to carry and birth Trunks. Those exact same words. How did he know to say that? It wasn't even the same Vegeta!

She raised her head and propped herself on her elbow, looking down at his face, searching for some sign that he knew his words were significant. He looked back, frowning a little, but there was no sign, only confusion. Her Vegeta and this Vegeta had spat out the same sentence, with decades of experiences separating them. He fucking _was_ the same man! Only better. And he was fucking leaving her _again!_ How twisted was her life, determined to repeat it's most bittersweet moments, jumbling up the pieces so that it hurt even more the second time round?

The stroke of his hand on her head and back suddenly changed, becoming more deliberate. He glanced at her lips, and she felt an answering jolt of desire at even this slight suggestion. She probably looked terrible, all tired and pink and blotchy from crying, but apparently that didn't matter.

'What is it, Bulma?' he asked, his voice husky soft.

Last time he'd announced he was leaving her life, she'd begged him to stay. She was too wise and proud to try that this time. If he stayed he stayed, and if not…she'd bloody well known what was going to happen all along, so more fool her. But there was still room for her to push her case non-verbally, or at least, feed her addiction.

'It's you,' she said, and bowed her head to kiss him.

He didn't hesitate; he kissed her back, one hand still on her back and the other cupping her face. Bulma had the same sensation of falling as she did in her dream, but now it was the swooping freefall of delight. Oh god, why did it feel like he loved her when he kissed her?

They kissed on and on, heat starting to bloom through her and waking up her tired body again. Her hands discovered that his chest was bare under the sheets. He pulled the sheets up out of the way and settled them back over her so she was inside, nestled next to him. After that, there was not a very lot to keep them back from one another.

As they pressed together, she ran her hand down the hard muscle and scarred skin of his chest, relishing the feel and trying to commit it to memory. His hands found the back of her t-shirt and trailed upwards, up her back, then down, then back up her ribs and over her breasts to her throat. He moved softly and slowly, dragging the sensation out. She sighed aloud before she belatedly remembered Sixteen standing only a matter of yards away, though luckily hidden from view by the sofa. Sixteen had never said anything about all the crap he'd had to listen to over the com unit before, but this was surely worse. Vegeta saw the direction she looking and her sudden concern and grinned. She raised her finger to her lips, in a silent shush. She wasn't going to let this opportunity slip by for the sake of not offending an android. Maybe, if they were quiet…

Her t-shirt was soon up around her armpits and she paused to throw it off. He stroked her from her throat all the way down to her belly over and over, kissing her neck, moving slower and gentler than he'd even been with her before. It half tickled, half inflamed, she found herself arching to make him touch her harder. She bit down on another moan as his hand passed lightly across her breast, and grabbed at him, trying to force him closer. He chuckled softly in her ear. Somehow she didn't think he was as concerned about keeping discrete as she was.

They tangled together, legs entwined. His arousal pressed against her hip and she teased it inside its grey flannelette prison. He pushed himself against her, and she obliged, pulling down the waistband to take him in hand. He gasped softly against her throat, forgetting to be quite so gentle, his teeth sliding across her skin, making her suck in her breath with their sharpness as he bit down just once. Then he abandoned her neck, kissing her mouth deeply again, and he rolled them over so that they were nearly off the mattress and he on top, rocking his hips against her, making a sound in his throat like an amorous tiger. Bulma pushed the waistband of the sweatpants over swell of his buttocks, laying a hand on each, marvelling at their muscularity. He kicked the pants off, pulling back from her to shuck them easier. He hesitated as he knelt over her, stroking both hands over her breasts softly again and again. Bulma bit down on her finger not to squeak. However much she tried to arch up into his hands he backed off so that it was just a whisper soft touch. What the hell was he teasing her for? Why was he grinning down at her like a…like a sadistic torturer? Oh.

She grabbed at his hands, trying to push them down harder, but only succeeded in lifting herself slightly from the mattress. 'Vegeta!' she whispered desperately.

'What?' he said, pulling away and pulling her underwear off in the same movement. If she thought that that he was going to stop torturing her though she soon lost that notion. He lay himself flat on his stomach and put his face between her legs.

'Ack!' she choked, as his breath and lips and tongue teased her there too, one hand holding her down against her squirming, the other coming back up to brush her nipple again. His hair tickled between her thighs, his tongue giving her the most delicate of touches when she ached for more. He'd never done this to her before - it was driving her mad! After her resolution not to be loud she was panting like a steam train and writhing to get more out of him. His breath huffed against her as he laughed, enjoying his domination over her desire.

'You black hearted bastard!' she whispered.

Suddenly he relented, diving in for real, and his fingers pinching her nipple at the same time, and she couldn't hold that one in.

'Ahh!'

Vegeta's other hand let her free now, and joined his mouth at building her pleasure, and it was building – fast. But this wasn't how she wanted it, even if her body was telling her to surrender immediately. Without his hand holding her down she was able to wriggle away from him up the mattress. She turned onto her knees to crawl away from him and get a few inches distance from which to regain some control.

'What?' he whispered confused, and then his arm caught her around the hips, dragging her back under him. He was behind her, on his knees. 'Where do you think you're going?' he whispered softly just behind her ear.

'Nowhere,' she squeaked back. Uh oh.

He plunged into her from behind, sliding in so easily after all his teasing that Bulma literally pressed her face into the mattress to muffle her cry of satisfaction. Vegeta made no such effort to quiet himself, gasping loudly, and again when he pulled back to only to sink in again. Damn it, this wasn't the romantic and poignant lovemaking she had wanted to remember him by always, but it was _good_ …

The hand round her hips dipped lower between her legs, stirring the slipperiness there as he moved in and out of her. It was more than good; it was too good. She'd wanted to look him in the eyes as they lost themselves in the moment, but it was too late now – she didn't have the will to divert the course their passion was taking. Vegeta was making so much appreciative noise now that Bulma didn't even try and stop herself when she cried out 'God, Vegeta-aa!'

But it seemed like Vegeta himself had other plans. Before she lost it entirely he pulled out, and with trembling hands, turned her on her back. She clawed at his shoulders, desperate to have him back inside her, scared he would tease her more, but he was swiftly on her again, as desperate as she was, burying his face in her neck as he pushed and pushed them both gasping over the edge.

'Bulma! Bulma!'

Even as the pleasure was pulsing through her loins she heard the longing in his voice and it pierced her heart. Yes, she'd remember this all right. She'd never forget the way he said her name right then.

As they lay there catching their breath, he lifted his head again, his slightly shell-shocked expression dissolving into a grin. Vegeta's smiles were usually dangerous - promising either mischief or violence, but this one was merely gloriously happy. She'd never seen him smile so much as he had since he returned this morning. Was it nearly being beaten to death by Goku that had made him so relentlessly cheerful? She couldn't quite manage pure happiness herself. She'd have to block out the memory of the last couple of days for that, and forget what the next day held for her. In all likelihood, this was the end of the line for her and Vegeta.

He rolled them so he was on his back, and she sprawled half on his chest, and stroked her hair and back once more. Well, if this was the end of the line, it felt very nice. It felt like honest-to-god love. Whatever it was, it would have to be good enough.

* * *

Vegeta stretched out, the Woman still draped on top of him. He stroked the long lines of her back, peace and contentment settling on him like he hadn't known in all the years since he'd stepped foot in a time machine. This is what those other entanglements with the Bulma in this timeline had been missing – this clear conscience. Now he was staying, now that he knew he was doing the right thing and the guilt was finally gone (thanks to Kakarott, the presumptuous oaf), happiness filled him up.

Well, not quite all the guilt. He realised he hadn't yet told her that he decided to stay. Or asked if she wanted him too. He felt a squirm of doubt at the thought. Surely she wanted him to stay? She'd been eager to bed him, and been beside herself at the thought of his death, but it was a long way from that to what his words would signify. He would be proposing nothing less than his staying with her for the rest of their lives as her mate. He was pretty sure she'd say yes, but one couldn't make assumptions. Urgh, nothing for it.

'Woman. Bulma. I've decided to stay.'

She didn't react, and for a second he was afraid.

'If that's all right with you,' he added.

When she didn't react this time he craned his neck round to see her face, which was turned towards the lab, her head resting on his chest. Ha! She was asleep already. Drool was running down from the corner of her mouth. He laughed silently, rocking her up and down in her sleep. Oh well, when she woke up would have to do.

He dozed for a while, not tired but soothed into sleep by his mood. When he woke again with a mouthful of Bulma's blue hair and her elbow wedged uncomfortably in the crook of his neck he considered this feeling - one he hadn't encountered often in his life. On and off, in the twenty two years between Buu's defeat and his major time-travelling cock-up, he'd felt like this. Before that, never except for the one memory.

It was his first memory, he was pretty sure. He was following a ball, trying to kick it and not succeeding well. Some women, ladies of his father's court, had been sitting in a deep window seat. He couldn't remember their faces or their names, but he remembered struggling between their legs to get to the ball. They laughed and he had accidentally stepped on the ball, falling over. Then one of them had picked him up and rocked him saying 'Coo, coo, little Prince, shush your crying,' in a voice that he remembered as warm as honey. The woman next to her had leaned over, stroking his face and wiping away his tears. She'd said 'You want to grow up strong and brave like your Daddy, don't you?' A third woman with a babe at her breast had laughed. 'He'll grow up fast enough.' The light coming in the window had been golden, and he'd felt safe and happy and like there was nothing wrong in the world.

He supposed it was probably not long after that that his father had given him over to the small squadron of governors and tutors to raise. They were all veterans. It was a far cry from clinging to the skirts of the court women.

The problem with that memory was how it led directly to another.

He'd never figured out who his mother was. He'd always hoped it was one of these women, but as he'd gotten older, in his teens, when it was far too late to ask, he'd come to realise that it was more likely another woman entirely. He remembered her name, though not her face. Aubergina. A warrior in her own right. She was small, black haired and foul tempered, and she had no time or tolerance for Vegeta. All the other women at court had, when they got the chance, fawned over the young prince, and attempted to spoil or flatter him. He was trained by his tutors and his father to treat that kind of behaviour with contempt, but even so, he'd always been affronted by Aubergina's lack of affection towards him. She would talk to his tutors as if he wasn't there, asking only blunt questions about his progress as a fighter or a scholar. When he tried to speak to her himself he got only a ferocious glare from her. The only times she spoke directly to him was to tell him that he could do better and try harder with his studies. She had no respect for his title and no love for him. He'd hated her.

He sighed for letting that recollection put a dent in his good mood. The Woman was deeply asleep now, and he extricated himself from her, dressing silently and then moving out from under the time machine to stretch. Just in time too, as one of the shafts of sunlight coming down through the roof was blocked by the figure of Eighteen, touching down to land. First her eyes lighted on Sixteen.

'You're alive!'

And then Vegeta. She practically jumped out of her skin.

' _You're_ alive!' She ran towards him and for one hideous second he though she was going to hug him, but she ran right past and looked over the back of the couch to where Bulma lay. She gasped and turned to him.

'Is she…?'

'Asleep? Yes. So don't wake her.'

'Ha!' she said, quieter now. 'I can't believe you're all okay. That Gogeta guy was intense.'

'Well lucky for us he was on our side.'

She walked around the couch and flopped down on it. Sixteen wandered over and crouched on the other side of the mattress from the couch. They took these positions so naturally he wondered if it had been like that all through the night while they guarded Bulma.

'I'm still tired,' she muttered.

'Goku was here, but he left before I could destroy him,' said Sixteen.

Eighteen's head snapped up at the name. 'Goku?'

'Shut up about that, both of you,' Vegeta told them. 'Chat about it sometime when one of his best friends isn't sleeping off a night from hell right next to you.'

Eighteen peered down at Bulma, taking in her bare shoulders showing above the sheets and the t-shirt and underwear crumpled at the foot of one of the time machine's legs. Her eyes widened a fraction and she glanced up at Vegeta, then turned away quickly, blushing. He had to laugh a little bit. She was a prude that girl. He wondered if she would find some kind of mate in this world. He thought probably so. She already seemed somewhat to care for the Woman. If his theory about Eighteen's psyche was correct she would likely attach herself like a lost puppy to the first single male who came along who showed her any affection - just like she had with Krillin. He was smirking at that when he had the sobering realisation that on the surface of it, that's what had happened to him with Bulma.

 _Sometimes the first comer is he best though_ , he reminded himself.

Now what was he to do while the Woman slept? He decided to meditate where he stood, running through yesterday's battle in his mind, trying to recall every movement and detail, to see what he could learn and improve upon.

It was well into morning when he felt two modest energies approaching. 'Ah, the whole menagerie is here now,' he muttered and waited, grinning, for Korin and Oolong to make their way through the lab. Korin lead the way, Oolong skittishly following.

Korin's eyes opened a fraction when he saw Vegeta.

'I gathered last night that you hadn't made it, Vegeta. How come you're standing here now?'

'The Kaioshin sent a monster to catch a monster, but that only works,' he told him quietly, 'if the monster you send isn't the soft-hearted buffoon I call my friend - Kakarott.'

Korin and Oolong looked confused. Tough. He wasn't about to send Sixteen and Eighteen and the rest of them into a lather by using Kakarott's Earthling name.

'Bulma is alright?'

'Yes. Still asleep.'

They came closer, peering down at Bulma's blue head snoring softly on the pillow. Vegeta didn't really like them seeing her like this. This was private. He could tolerate Sixteen and Eighteen, just, because they protected her, but there was no reason for these two to be snooping on his Woman when she was so…vulnerable.

Vegeta could smell something rather appetizing coming from Korin's sack that he carried. In theory he shouldn't be hungry, not with a senzu bean under his belt only a few hours ago, but his stomach didn't seem to realise that.

'You brought breakfast?'

Korin nodded. 'Bulma asked me to come back this morning. I was here until nearly midnight and the Supreme Kai was giving them what for,' he whispered. 'I half expected her not to make it.' He shook his head and laughed softy. 'She's got a warrior's heart that one, even though she's never lifted a hand in violence.'

'Are you kidding me?' said Oolong. 'The amount of times she's belted, thumped and crowned me over the years! It's a good job she never had any martial arts training!'

Vegeta snorted. 'What are you here for, Pig?'

'I was in the neighbourhood, so I dropped in to see if the pesky time machine is finished yet. As usual it seems there's been a major shit storm going down here.' His eyes lingered on the Woman. 'Should we wake her?'

'No,' said Vegeta, moving to block their view of her. 'You two should wait in the house till she wakes.'

Korin huffed at being spoken to like that, but he turned away anyhow. Vegeta remembered what he'd said to Kakarott about him last night.

'Wait, Cat! I mean, Korin. Before I forget.' This kind of thing didn't come naturally to him. He could feel the words getting stuck in his craw. 'Though you are a weak fighter, you are a creative one, and I have even used one or two techniques of yours, learnt from Kakarott.'

'Well, that would be an insult coming from most people, but from you I'm going to take it was a compliment,' said Korin.

'You are a martial arts master, and as a former Master of Kakarott's, have my respect.'

'Damn straight Vegeta, and don't you forget it!' He turned, heading for the lab door again. 'Now I know who you mean by "Kakarott".'

Vegeta was just wondering if he'd laid it on too thick when Korin froze again, sensing the same thing he did. His stomach clenched. Shit, this wasn't good. Oolong stood there, looking backwards and forwards between the two like an idiot.

A few moments passed and then Trunks floated down through the hole in the ceiling, sliding down the same sunbeam that Eighteen had. The two androids were immediately on their feet, ready to fight. Vegeta rushed over to the purple haired man, wanting to head off any trouble.

'What are you doing here?' he hissed.

'Why are you always so happy to see me?' countered Trunks.

'Because you never come with good news, that's why!'

Now Trunks smiled. 'Well, this time is different. You got a few minutes? I've got to talk to you.'

Vegeta folded his arms. 'Talk then.'

Trunks looked around at the assembled curious faces and the sleeping Woman. 'You might prefer it if it was in private.'

'I'm not leaving her side,' he said.

'Do not worry, Vegeta, she will be safe with us,' said Sixteen.

What could the boy possibly want to say that should be private? And yet, he didn't really want all these others finding out whatever Trunks was going to spit up at the same time he did.

'You could take a com unit just in case,' said Sixteen, holding one out.

He nodded to Sixteen who threw him the unit. 'I'll just be in the garden.'

He followed the half-Saiyan up into the light, fighting the usual disconcerting sense that he was looking at his own son. He was carrying a bundle under his arm and wore his ridiculous long trench coat. Trunks didn't take him far, only off the hangar doors themselves to stand in the long grass. He could see the slick purple time machine the younger man had arrived in hanging above them.

'What is it then?' he asked as soon as Trunks turned to face him. 'I thought you wouldn't be able to come back.'

'This is my last stop. I'm as much a fugitive as you are right now Vegeta.' Trunks smiled slyly, apparently proud of this fact. 'The Planet of the Kai's is in uproar at the moment. The other Time Patrollers are all either in revolt or deserting like we are right now. There's no one up there who will carry out their latest orders.'

'What? What other time patrollers?' He'd wondered if there were more, but Trunks had never mentioned them.

'It's not just me and my Mom you know. There are six teams of us, collected from here and there, the disease turned to the cure.'

'How come I never met any others then?'

'Didn't you?' Trunks grinned knowingly.

'No!' said Vegeta. 'Only you!'

Trunks laughed, but it was a laugh that seemed to mask some other deeper emotion besides amusement. 'You think I am the _only_ Trunks they've had working for them?'

Vegeta's eyes flew wide, mentally running back through the last fifteen years or so of encounters with the blasted Time Patrol.

'The different machines…?'

'Belong to different teams.'

'Ah,' he gasped, many things suddenly falling into place. 'So when you were a murderous son of a bitch, that _wasn't_ you?'

'No. Like I said, I've always helped you, Vegeta. Not all the guys are as forgiving as me.'

'Who does the big dark grey machine belong to? The one that looks like a weapon?' The one that looks like the one in the hangar right now. He'd always associated it with Trunks's more serious attempts to bring him in.

'Oh. Angel.'

'Angel?'

'Yeah, his codename. How else are we to be known apart? We've got the same face and name.'

'What's your codename?'

'Cowboy,' Trunks grinned again. 'Because I never follow the rules.'

Vegeta smiled unwillingly. This was a Trunks after his own heart.

'Yeah, Angel's a bit of a purist shall we say, and he's got a bit of a bee in his bonnet about you. One of the most loyal to the Kai. But even he won't carry out the Kai's orders after Goku came through this morning.'

'What do you mean?'

'Goku threw it all back in the Kaioshin's face, this thing with wanting both you and her downstairs dead. One of us had brought him from the future, to subdue _you_ was the rumour, but when he turned up on the planet again yesterday he gave all the Kaioshin a public dressing down and told everyone what his actual orders were. And then the Kai asked who would volunteer to carry out the orders in Goku's stead! Some of them might not mind killing you if they could manage it, but no-one there is going to kill a Bulma, let me tell you!'

'Yesterday? But he only left here a few hours ago.'

'Yes. The Planet is in magical lock down right now. The only way out is with time travel. After they put the lock down in place Goku was stuck there, and we made a run for it, jumping back a few hours before the lockdown before leaving.'

This was all a bit much to take in, but one thing was clear, and brought Vegeta a laugh. 'The Kai are screwed.'

'For now.'

Vegeta felt a flush of anger coming on. Would they never stop harassing him? A disturbing thought came to him – what if they still wouldn't stop even after they got Bulma's boy back? What if his presence and their destroying of the time machine still wasn't enough to make them leave him and the Woman alone?

'So why are you running?' he growled at Trunks, letting his frustration leak out.

Trunks looked at him levelly, for a long moment. 'My mother and I have had enough. We've been looking for a way home ever since we lost our own way, and now we've found it. We're going, just as soon as I'm done here.'

Vegeta grunted, intrigued, but so far it's didn't relate to his own situation. 'And?'

Trunks took the cloth wrapped bundle from under his arm. He unrolled it carefully and revealed it was a bag. He lifted two things out of it - black metal boxes with a few wires hanging out of each. They were identical except for the characters NC-8 and NC-9 scrawled on the side of them in white paint. It was Bulma's messy writing, he'd bet anything. Trunks passed them over and Vegeta examined them but there was no other clue.

'So what are these?'

'N-clippers.'

Vegeta looked at him in surprise. 'These are the things that clip the branch when you travel between universes?'

'Yes. It's how the time patrol machines don't cause more branching when they're used. It's also one of the ways we collapse universes. With an N-clipper that discards the original timeline you can collapse a chain reaction of universes by heading off the original instance of time travel. Prevent it from happening and the universe it created ceases to be, as well as every universe created as a result of that one. Sometimes it's a small chain reaction of collapse. Sometimes it's large. My mother – my actual mother, invented them.'

Vegeta stared at the boxes again, wrapping his head around it. So this was how they did it? These were powerful tools. But what was he meant to do with them, other than stop him and the Woman spawning any more universes during their rescue mission? 'Why didn't you give me these sooner?'

'Because we didn't have them to give. Until we found our way home it didn't matter. Once we did, Mom came up with a plan. It took her a few days to build these. We could have left the Planet of the Kais earlier, but she was still finishing them.'

'Then why are you giving me them?' said Vegeta, sensing that the strings attached to this deal were about to be pulled.

'Because…' Trunks trailed off, looking suddenly anxious. He fished into the bag again and came out with a few sheets of paper in his hand which he handed to Vegeta. Vegeta looked through them. Two were identical sets of diagrams and instructions, and two were perhaps identical sheets of nonsense.

'What are these?'

'Directions for installing the N-clippers to the time drive, and the others are vibrational co-ordinates for our originating universe.'

Vegeta looked back at him, eyes boring into the man.

'What do you mean _our_ originating universe?'

Trunks gave a nervous laugh, his expression twisting into something much more painful than amusement.

'Father, I can't believe that in all the times I spoke to you over the years…that you never once asked me where I came from…whose universe…whose son.'

Vegeta felt his entire chest turn to solid stone. His very heart seemed to stop for a moment, and then, with an effort he forced himself to go on breathing. 'And whose son are you?' he said, his voice hoarse and strangled.

Trunks grinned like a man who wanted to cry.

'I'm yours.'


	36. Prodigal Father

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Sorry this took a little longer. I'm struggling with post viral fatigue and trying to get back to work at the same time, and this was not an easy chapter to write.

Vegeta stared at Trunks, fists curled, breathing through his bared teeth. His whole body was tensed to fight, but he couldn't fight a truth. Couldn't make it untrue by attacking it.

 _What the fuck does this mean?_ he screamed inside his head. _Nothing good, nothing good at all!_ He couldn't get past the shock of it.

'You lie.'

'No, I don't.' Trunks wasn't smiling any more.

'Then why didn't you tell me earlier?'

'At first I didn't know who you were. After I worked it out…would it have helped for you to know? By that time I figured it out you were already the Kais' public enemy number one, and I was sent to bring you in, the same as any other threat. The things you did! It was galling to be trying to stop you from getting home when all I wanted was the same thing, but it was worse watching you wreak damage and violence and not care! When I first figured out who you were I didn't _want_ to believe you were the same Vegeta who raised me!'

These words stung Vegeta like a slap to the face. 'I'm not proud of what I did when I was first lost, but all I wanted was to get back to you and your mother and sister! After you told me about the harm I was doing I tried to avoid doing more if I could.'

'That's what I hoped when I tried educating you. But you _still_ caused so much damage! I knew it was pointless to try and bring you in – I would have failed, and luckily no other patroller except Angel was willing to tangle with you and he was no match for you either. In the end I was just waiting for the day that either the Kai would take you down themselves, or you ended yourself with some time unfortunate time jump. Mom said-'

'Your mother!' exploded Vegeta. Trunks had said he was leaving with her, so did that mean she was here right now? He pushed his awareness up to the time machine hanging in the sky and felt _her_ , the double of the Woman in the hangar. He jumped into the sky but Trunks was faster, getting in front of him, knocking him back.

'No!'

'Get out of my way, boy!'

He tried to dart around him but Trunks got in the way again. Vegeta dealt him a palm to the face and flicked him out of the way, but Trunks still managed to stop him when he yelled 'Father, stop! She doesn't want you to see her!'

Vegeta hesitated and Trunks got above him again, pushing him down, back towards the ground.

'Why the hell not?' he shouted. It didn't make sense. Nothing was making sense! Trunks pushed him all the way back down to the ground and Vegeta didn't fight him anymore. Oh gods, what did this all mean? There were two Bulmas within reach, he'd fought and cursed his very own son for years, and now…now there was a way back to his own universe? He looked at the sheets he still clutched in his hand. Why now? Why now? What had he done? Two weeks ago, even less, this news would have set his heart on fire with joy! Gods, _gods!_

'Father, are you alright?'

Vegeta didn't, couldn't, answer that one, but he did grasp the front of Trunks's coat and pull the taller man down to his face.

'Tell…me… _everything_.'

Trunks's face hardened. With a shock Vegeta realised that he was barely holding himself back from doing violence to his own son. With an effort he calmed himself, recalling his favourite memories of his cocky progeny. This was the same kid, but clearly no kid anymore. Clearly not even the thirty year old he'd last seen, the partying bachelor and Capsule Corp VP who was ready to throw everything down for an adventure. There was a scar on his cheek that Vegeta knew he had made himself a while back, when the Time Patroller had caught up to him while he was sleeping. How many other times had he come to blows with his own child? He could have killed him and never known it was him!

'Have you calmed down now?' said Trunks in a tone Vegeta would've taken exception to if he hadn't deserved it so much.

'How old are you? How did you come to be a Time Patroller?' A more frightening thought pushed itself to the fore. 'If you and your mother are here, _where the hell is Bra_?'

Trunks carefully pulled Vegeta's hands from his lapels, took back the crumpled sheets of paper and stepped back out of arm's reach. 'That's why we've been looking for a way back ever since we got lost. She's still at home, alone.'

It was probably a good idea for Trunks to have stepped away. For a second Vegeta was speechless with fear and fury. Then he exploded.

'How could you leave your sister like that? WHY?'

'We were looking for you, you idiot!'

'Screw me! How could you have left a sixteen year old girl by herself?'

'We didn't do it on purpose-'

'What was your _mother_ thinking?'

'Shut up, Vegeta, and listen!' Trunks shouted back. 'You might be my father, but I swear you are the most difficult bastard to deal with ever!'

Vegeta paused while a storm raged inside him. 'Talk. Fast.'

Trunks took a deep breath.

'After you left and never came back it was absolutely awful. Bra and I waited and hoped that you would come back, that you had just set the wrong date for some reason, but Mom knew right away that you were gone for good. She was angry. She blamed you for going, but she also blamed herself in case it was the machine that failed. I think she even feared that you had plain left us.'

'I never!'

'Well, she knows that now! After a few awful months we begged Mom to build another machine. And she did even though she was scared to use it. That one.' He waved his hand at the machine above them. 'It took her more than a year to build it. We tested it, and then started looking for you using the list of vibrational frequencies your machine used as beacons, but it wasn't that easy. We didn't even know what time you were aiming for. Mom was beside herself every time I piloted the machine. I tried a few times and missed you. Then she figured that because she'd actually lived through the times you were most likely to revisit it would be faster, and safer for me, if she came along with me.'

'Leaving Bra?'

'Leaving Bra.' Trunks looked off into the clouds in the distance, his brow creased with regret. 'It was stupid! We know that now! Bra wanted to come too, and we wouldn't let her because we thought it wasn't safe, and because Mom would have to build the time machine even larger. And so now she's safe at home…without any of us.'

Vegeta moaned. He felt ill. He sat down in the grass suddenly.

'She could be dead…'

'She'll have been all right,' said Trunks sternly. 'She's the heir of the Briefs fortune. Chichi, Gohan and Videl would take care of her. And in West City there's Krillin and Eighteen and Goten. They'd never let her come to harm.'

'She's a foolish child! She can't even fight to save herself!'

Trunks snorted. 'Well, that's where you're wrong. When we told Bra she couldn't come she thought it was because she wasn't a fighter or a tech-head, and figured if she was both she could join the search too. Her grades went through the roof! And she started training.'

This was almost unthinkable for Vegeta. Bra had hated fighting. His early attempts to train her had just been long sessions of tears. Bra couldn't take or deal a hit without crying, and worse, she was scared of him afterwards. He hadn't been able to take it. He concluded that she'd never be a fighter, and he wouldn't make her.

'By the time Mom and I lost our way home Bra was eighteen and already halfway through an electrical engineering and physics double major, and she placed in the quarterfinals of the World Martial Arts Tournament. She'd been holding herself back for years, god knows why.'

Vegeta didn't know what to feel first – pride, grief or panic.

'It doesn't matter anyway,' continued Trunks. 'Whatever it might have been like, Mom and I are going back now, to the day that we left. Although it's been nearly sixteen years for Mom and I since we got lost, for Bra no time will have passed since we left. With an N-clipper in our machine, the universe in which Bra got left alone will cease to exist.'

Vegeta felt an easing on the cold grip around his heart.

'Thank the gods!' He looked at the N-clipper units where he'd dropped them in the grass, the miraculous things that could perhaps erase the regrets of a lifetime. 'When did your mother invent these?'

'Too late to stop her and I doing a lot of damage.'

'How did you lose your way home?'

'The same way as you did.'

'An EMP?'

'The _same_ EMP. We found you and five minutes later our machine was fried along with yours.'

'But I didn't see or sense you!'

Trunks sat down beside his father. 'I know. But we saw you. You're the Vegeta from the negative outcome universe of that jump. For you we never arrived. But for us, we found you…for a while. We stopped in that timeline for some months together while Mom repaired the time machines. She rebuilt them specifically for finding new multiverses. It scans for them basically, and finds them at random – it's nearly completely useless for searching for a specific universe – like blindly selecting a straw from a haystack and hoping that it's the same straw you're after. And you…Father…searched that way using your machine for a while until one day you never came back. That's when Mom decided that the negative outcome universe theory was more than just a theory. So she began designing the first N-clipper.'

Simple words to cover another tragedy. Here Trunks paused, his face grim from recollection. 'Not long after that we caught the attention of the Kai. It was my Mom and I that opened their eyes to the dangers of time travel, though they had started to suspect it themselves. They gathered some other time travellers, visited other timelines, and then the Grand Old Kai came up with the spell to consolidate the timelines on the Planet of the Kai…'

Vegeta was stunned. His own Woman and son, because of his actions, had caused the crackdown on time travel that had hunted and hindered him for years.

'When the Kai saw the extent of the multiverse splitting, it seemed like it was not a moment too late. We time travellers on the planet at the time became the Time Patrol, and Mom made N-clippers for the rest of them. Even so, over years and years, we've only managed to slow the rate at which universes propagate. It's a losing battle. Mom and I thought we would never find our way back to our universe, but we never stopped trying. And then, only a matter of days ago, I stumbled across it. Unbelievable.'

'And so what do you want me to do with these?' asked Vegeta.

'Only what you've always wanted,' replied Trunks, raising his head, looking his father in the eye.

'Elucidate.'

'One is for this Bulma's machine, for her to find her own Trunks. When you've got your time machine back, put the other N-clipper in it and return to the day you left us.'

Vegeta's fingers were sinking into the dirt, tearing up handfuls, sure now that he was being punished for all his sins. He trembled, tearing his eyes away from Trunks, looking towards the soft glow of the Woman he could still sense sleeping in the hangar, still smell on himself.

'Father?' said Trunks. 'It is what you always wanted. Right?'

The edge in his son's voice made Vegeta's heart race with guilt. How much did he know about what had gone on here? What did his _mate_ know? They couldn't watch from heaven like the Kai, but what had Kibito Kai told them of his situation? Or Kakarott? For that matter, what had Trunks's own senses told him about his dealings with the younger Bulma? Trunks himself had told him to guard her night and day. And though he knew Trunks didn't have the same powerful sense of smell that a full-blooded Saiyan had, could he have missed the reek of sex on him that was so obvious to Vegeta?

'You can drop that ridiculous scheme to recreate our timeline.'

'I had already relented that foolishness,' said Vegeta stiffly, still unable to look away from her energy. And what the hell would she do if he left her now?

Trunks grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling him round. 'Father, you _will_ do it, right?'

Vegeta could hear panic in the man's voice, but he couldn't answer.

'Father, you have to!'

Vegeta just stared at him, feeling despair taking him apart.

'Mom and I are going back to Bra now, but that is just so that when you go back to the day you left with this N-clipper it will mean that we never left to find you, never left Bra, never broke hundreds of timelines and created just as many new ones to propagate on and on. If you do this you'll still have spent all this time looking to get home, but for us it'll be as if you never went. Please, Father!'

Vegeta felt himself crumbling to the weight of Trunks's argument. But it didn't quite make sense.

'Why don't you just take your own time machine back to before I left, and destroy mine before I go?'

'Because that doesn't work! You can't clip a timeline if the universe you unmake is one which eventually spawned your own existence!'

'How do you know that?'

'Because _you_ tried it once!'

'What?'

Trunks laughed bitterly. 'Mom and I were not content to lose you twice! We looked hard and found another version of you we'd also accidentally created! Once Mom made the first N-clipper and you used it to try just that – destroying your time machine before the first jump was made. Don't ask me what happened to you, you never came back and it didn't work. Mom completely blames herself for that one.'

Vegeta moaned in misery. How had his family got itself into such a mess? He'd thought that grief would've been the only pain he caused them, not guilt, not an endless losing quest like his own!

'But if I do what you say,' he asked Trunks, 'and unmake all the universes you and your mother created, I'll never have met you as a Time Patroller! Without everything you've told me over the years where will I be? I wouldn't even be having this conversation with you. At the very least Kibito Kai would have taken this Woman and destroyed the time machine she'd built.'

Trunks shook his head. 'This isn't the first time a Time Patroller has tried to rub out their own existence by getting someone else to clip their timeline. Every universe that me and Mom made leading up to the time that the Grand Old Kai cast the spell to make the planet the nexus will be erased. But after that everything we do will continue to exist, like indelible ink. We are part of…that other…unique thing that the Kaioshin and their planet is now. Nexus material. And a good thing too, or else Time Patrollers would probably be accidentally erasing each other from time to time. But if we're in a universe that you unmake, like we plan to be, and never leave it again, we'll be unmade, nexus material or not.'

'What? But you won't exist! What is this madness you are talking?'

'I told you, we'd had enough!'

'Enough that you'd want to die?'

'No! It won't be death! We won't even exist. Our souls will not be sent anywhere, they'll collapse back into the universe you make with your jump. We'll finally be home again.' He smiled. 'Not that we'll know that we went anywhere.'

Vegeta stared at his son, choking on thoughts. It was insane, but imagine, all the family back together again…what he'd wanted…what he'd wanted all along… _Fuck!_

'Father, you have to do it! For me and Mom and Bra! Even the Kai would thank you for this if they knew – all the mess that Mom and I made will be gone!'

'I'll do it,' breathed Vegeta. 'Of course I'll do it.' Suddenly the weight of it was crushing him to the ground. It was hard to remain sitting, harder still to keep looking Trunks in the face. He dropped his head.

How would he ever be completely at peace back with his family knowing what a mess he'd left behind here? But what other choice did he have? His buoyant happiness of only ten minutes ago seemed ludicrous.

Trunks sighed in relief. 'Thank god! I knew you would say yes.'

'Of course I would!' A painful thought occurred. 'Your mother thought that I wouldn't? Is that why she didn't want to see me?' He couldn't bear to raise his gaze from the ground, but he could feel her anyway, keeping herself out of reach above him. Instant transmission could take him to her whether she and Trunks wished it or not.

'No, that's not why.'

'Then why?'

'Because…Father, we've been at this a long time. I'm forty-seven…I think. All the time travel makes it hard to keep track. Mom is eighty years old now. She wants another chance to grow old with you. Not for you to see her already aged.'

Bulma, old. It had a hollow pain to it. Very well, he would not see her now if she were ashamed of it.

Trunks gathered the N-clippers and papers, put them back in the cloth bag, and handed it to Vegeta.

'Is there no way to undo the damage I have done also? Unmake my own mess?' asked Vegeta. If he could wipe his sins from the record…

'No, Father, you can't. And the other Time Patrollers won't do it for you. For whatever reason, as far as we can tell from their stories, they all originate from universes you created on your rampage, or branches thereof. They'd unmake their own originating universes, and all of them pretty much wish to find their own path home someday.'

Vegeta laughed, unhinged by this revelation. It simply wasn't possible for him to feel any worse than he already did. Of course he had inadvertently created the whole time patrol! What else could one expect? He was a monster, and how could he have forgotten? The destroyer of worlds; the breaker of universes; the leaver of lonely women pregnant with his children! How could he have thought that peace and happiness was meant for the likes of him?

Trunks gave him a look loaded with pity, and stood, putting his hand out to pull Vegeta to his feet. Vegeta looked dumbly at it before finally accepting it.

'Do you understand what you have to do?' asked Trunks.

'Yes.'

'Don't look so happy about, will you?'

Vegeta wanted to get away before he broke down again, but he forced himself to look at his son. 'I'm overwhelmed by this news, Trunks. Happiness will come later.' He hoped this was true.

It seemed to please Trunks anyway, who grinned, and still holding onto his hand from pulling him up, gave him a quick one-armed hug that made Vegeta go stiff with surprise.

'Then see you soon, Father! See you when I'm still young and have no idea what torture you went through to be home again!'

He left quickly after that, flying up to his time machine. Vegeta saw a glimpse of her hand touching the edge of the cockpit when the dome opened to let him in, and then, almost as soon as he was inside, they were gone, leaving him staring at empty sky.

Gods damn it.

He walked blindly to the hole in the roof, drawn to the gentle warmth of the younger Bulma's energy, though he had no idea what he would do or say when he got to her side. When he leapt to the floor of the hangar he turned to her to see if she was still asleep and was surprised to see the other four still there, gathered around her. He'd completely forgotten they existed. When Oolong saw his face he thought the pig was going to faint again. Korin was frowning at him. Eighteen's face was downright accusatory. Even Sixteen was giving him a knowing look that made Vegeta's blood suddenly boil over. Sixteen held the other com unit.

Vegeta pulled the other one out of his jeans pocket. This wasn't the open channel com unit was it? Bloody fucking perfect!

His arm whipped out in temper and the unit sped to the far end of the hangar, smashing into a thousand pieces and falling amongst the concrete rubble of last night's battle. It was far enough away that it didn't make too much noise. The Woman slept on.

Vegeta advanced on the rest of them.

'Get out, all of you!' he hissed. ' _Now!_ '

Oolong ran. Korin sighed and Eighteen pouted, but they got up to follow the pig.

'How will we know when to come back?' said Sixteen, being infuriatingly sensible.

Vegeta leant over Sixteen where he crouched, taking the com unit out of his hand and crushing it into small splinters of plastic and metal. 'Go to the house. I will _shout_ and you will hear me.'

At last they were all gone and Vegeta sat on the couch facing the Woman. She looked so peaceful in her sleep. And yet, she already knew the fate that was coming for her. He would have spared her it. He loved her as much as his own Woman, because she was...his Woman. Curse time travel! Curse himself! Was there no way to do right by both families?

A light heart and a clear conscience weren't to be his. Thank the gods he hadn't told the Woman that he had been planning to stay with her yet…because he was going to have to leave her after all.

* * *

Bulma finally woke, slowly and groggily, disorientated to find herself under the time machine and sunlight blazing through the holes in the ceiling. When she turned to her side she saw Vegeta, dressed, sitting on the couch, head in his hands. Oh.

She sat up, realising she was naked under the covers and the memory of Vegeta's relenting last night skipped through her mind. Vegeta raised his face for a moment, his eyes red from tears. Double oh.

She hunted out her clothes and got dressed hurriedly. Whatever strange wave of playfulness Vegeta had been riding last night it was well gone. Now he looked like a man who was about to leave his lover. He was going, and he felt bad about it. She realised how much she'd been clinging to the hope that he'd change his mind when she felt it pop like a balloon and drop her heart to the floor.

And so now there was just the finishing touches of the time machine and they were done.

'Where's Sixteen?' she asked when she stood up, her voice sounding tremulous to her own ears.

'In the house.' He spoke slowly and roughly. 'Korin's here. He brought breakfast.'

She looked at him, hanging his head again, suddenly getting annoyed with him. Now! Now, he was having a self-pity party! Pity should surely be reserved for her alone!

'Well I'm starving. Get Sixteen in here to guard the machine.'

Vegeta growled, stood and walked around her, and then to her fright bellowed Sixteen's name at the top of his lungs.

'What wrong with using the com unit's?' she complained.

'The stupid fucking things are all broken,' he replied, just as she spotted the scattering of broken circuit board and plastic housing next to the mattress. Yes, _broken_ all right.

Sixteen came, giving Vegeta a hard eyed stare, but he said to Bulma 'Are you feeling better, Ms Briefs?'

'Yes. Thanks. Much better.' And then she blushed, remembering what they'd subjected to poor android to last night as he stood guard. Sixteen merely smiled.

In the house she was surprised to find Eighteen and Oolong as well as Korin. They were talking but quietened as they entered. Korin greeted her with a huff and went about serving the congee he'd brought. The atmosphere was stiff. Even Oolong was down. 'What are you even doing here, Oolong?' she asked.

'I came to see if you were all right, Bulma,' he said, sounding unusually earnest. 'You know I'm your friend. You can count on me.'

'Oh. Yeah, sure I know that.'

'You know what, Bulma? You and Trunks should come visit me and Chai sometime. Come to dinner when he's back. Stay for a while even! Chai would love it.'

'Of course we'll come to dinner,' she said, mentally crossing out the staying-over option. Oolong's eight piglets were hard to take in more than short doses.

Eighteen and Vegeta were scowling at each other. Vegeta looked a step towards the girl, and to Bulma's surprise she twisted away from him and slipped onto the bench seat where Vegeta probably would have sat, sitting close to Bulma. She raised an eyebrow at the blonde, who she now noticed was wearing a completely new outfit. 'Go home to change into more fashionable attire, Eighteen?'

'Thought I should look my best if there was going to be a funeral. But you were all alive still, so it was wasted effort!' Eighteen flashed her a tiny smile, and Bulma felt a glow of gratitude towards the girl.

'Thanks, Eighteen, for all your help last night.'

'No problem. Sorry I bailed.'

'It was fine.'

'God, even I'm hungry today!' exclaimed Eighteen as Korin handed Bulma a bowl. 'Got any more where that came from, Pussy-face?'

Korin raised his eyebrows and said to Bulma 'Could you not have reprogrammed her to have better manners while you were at it?'

After their uncomfortable breakfast – or lunch rather, as it was noon already – Korin asked when the time machine would be ready. Bulma thought about it.

'Sometime this evening.' She felt a jolt of joy. 'We can go tonight!'

'No!' snapped Vegeta.

'But-' She cut her complaint off at the sight of Vegeta's face, his eyes scorching in their intensity. 'Why not?' she asked more calmly.

'We'll go on a proper night's rest. And you have more work to do than you know. The plan has changed.'

' _What?_ ' Suddenly she became aware of how still the other three were, none of them questioning, all of them looking at her like they knew something she didn't. 'What are you talking about?'

'I'll show you, soon,' said Vegeta, turning away again.

'Right, I guess you'll be at my place wanting dinner again,' said Korin. 'And breakfast tomorrow. I'm coming back with you tomorrow to see you off by the way.'

'Of course, Korin!' said Bulma. 'And thank you.'

'I'll come back too, tomorrow morning,' promised Oolong.

After they left Eighteen still lounged on the bench seat next to Bulma, eyeing Vegeta with defiance.

'Get out!' Vegeta barked at her.

Eighteen got up, her narrowed eyes on Vegeta, and walked calmly out.

'What the hell is going on?' asked Bulma when she was gone. 'And don't treat Eighteen like that! Do you realise how much I – _we_ – are in her debt after yesterday?'

'Well you've certainly managed to inspire her loyalty,' he said with a sneer, picking up a cloth bag from the floor that she hadn't noticed before. He upended it on the dining table. 'We had a visit from our friendly Time Patrol this morning. He brought gifts.'

Bulma gasped and turned her attention to the items on the table. 'What are these?' Eerily she recognised her own handwriting on the items and papers.

'N-clippers. And instructions to install them.'

She looked at him in amazement. 'This is brilliant! Now we won't even be spawning new timelines when we go get Trunks!'

'We can safely take as many jumps as we need to get him back.' His demeanour was surprisingly un-jubilant.

She picked up the other papers with their long strings of characters. 'What are these?' When he didn't answer she looked up. He was staring at the papers too with his jaw clenched. She answered for him. 'These are vibrational co-ordinates. I recognise the encoding. Co-ordinates for where though?'

'For the universe that I came from.'

Bulma's heart gave a lurch. 'Well, that's great isn't it!' she said, smiling even as tears came into her eyes, stinging them. 'It's what you've wanted all along! You're really going home now!'

'Yes, I am.'

'Well,' she said, getting up from the table. 'I guess that just leaves me to finish the damn thing. And then we all get what we wanted from the beginning.'

* * *

She used the remote for Vegeta's machine as a template for her own. It didn't take long to make without a deity hell-bent on trying to kill her. She put masses of storage on the thing, loading it with all her own notes and schematics as well as those relevant ones on Vegeta's remote, her list of vibrational frequencies _and_ the ones on Vegeta's machine. The hardest task was typing in the co-ordinates to the laptop to transfer to Vegeta's remote. The string had forty eight possible characters and was over two thousand characters long. They spent an hour inputting and double-checking, Vegeta using a pencil to underline the code three characters at a time and reading them out to Bulma so she could check she'd typed them in correctly. It was a task made ever harder by Bulma's mind seesawing between giddy anticipation of seeing Trunks again, and a storm of feelings around the man next to her. Chiefly betrayal. She wondered why it hurt so much when she'd known from the first day that he would be leaving.

When that was done Bulma took the infinite power drive out of the fuse box and her lab was offline. She installed it and the cloaking device (which had survived the fall to the ground with only minor damage) and finally the N-clipper. She double and triple checked the connections, then powered the machine up. Blessedly nothing smoked, shorted or failed to boot.

With Sixteen and Eighteen's help she tested the machine, triggering a pre-programmed sequence with the remote.

She pressed the button and a few seconds later another time machine appeared alongside the first. She held her breath. After one minute it disappeared again and Sixteen and Eighteen lifted the first time machine and put it where the second had appeared. After another pause of two minutes this time machine also disappeared for one minute. Then it was back.

Bulma and Vegeta uttered identical gasps of relief.

'All done,' she said, smiling at him, because, whatever else she felt about him, there was no-one else in the world who could appreciate what a monumental moment this was as much as he could.

'Well done, Bulma,' he said softly, his voice sad and proud at the same time.

At the sound it she cried, relief and stress and loneliness and happiness bursting out of her all at once. Wordlessly he pulled her against him, and she hid her face in his shoulder, not wanting his comfort but needing it desperately.

They stood in front of the time machine with their arms round each other for a long time, until finally Bulma looked at her watch and realised that they were late for dinner again, and this was a no way to repay Korin for all his kindness and help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: So some complicated stuff in this chapter. Hopefully I did a good job of explaining. If not write me a review with your questions (logged in so that I can PM you back), or PM me directly, and I'll try and answer it as long as a) the question will not be answered in an upcoming chapter and b) it is not a glaring plot hole that I missed when planning this story. I think I have them all covered, but you never know.


	37. The Rescue, Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Hmm, seem to have hit a wall with available writing time. Anyhoo, here's The Rescue Part one. I will post part two tomorrow with luck. As I was finishing it off I realised that it was a massive chapter, and I may as well break it down and post the more finished half.

They didn't linger at Korin's but brought their dinner back with them and spent the evening reviewing their rescue plan in the light of the N-clipper. Bulma examined the other N-clipper and longed to strip it to find out how it worked, but was afraid that she wouldn't be able to put it back together before morning. Finally there was nothing left to do.

'Guess it's bed time then,' said Bulma unhappily, as they climbed down the step ladder from the cockpit of the machine. Vegeta froze in front of her on the last step of the ladder.

'What is it?' she said, feeling her frayed nerves coming undone all over again.

'Nothing,' he said, relaxing again. She followed his gaze to the sofa and the mattress, now both pushed up against the wall. Eighteen sat on the end of the sofa and hunched down next to her was Sixteen. They had been talking quietly most of the evening, but now Eighteen broke off the conversation to give Vegeta the evil eye again. Bulma snorted with bitter amusement. Was Eighteen only just figuring out now that Vegeta was leaving? She seemed pretty pissed off about it too. Why would she care that much? Unless she was feeling outrage on Bulma's behalf - which would be amusing in a way. Bulma grimaced - if Eighteen knew the half of it…

A wave of cold fear washed over her and made her hands prickle with sweat as she remembered her pregnancy.

'One crisis at a time. Bulma,' she told herself, pushing down thoughts of the future.

They slipped into their nightly going-to-bed routine, a well-oiled machine after weeks of practice together. Bulma tried to cheer herself with the thought that this was last time she'd have to stand outside a toilet while someone else used it with the door open. This was heartening, but not nearly enough to raise her above a weary sulk.

They went back to the hangar and evicted Eighteen from the sofa. Bulma immediately knew that sleep would be elusive tonight. She was anxious about tomorrow, and she was miserable about Vegeta. Her last hours with him were ticking away, to be spent lying next to him silently, not even sleeping, and there was nothing to be done about it. She lay rigid on her back, getting more and more wound up.

On one hand she was desperate for morning to arrive and finally get into the machine before anything else could go wrong. On the other…

It felt like tonight should be some grand cathartic moment, a night of confession and tearful farewells. Instead it was just this awful sense of time sliding by, wasted. Eventually she could take it no longer and she rolled onto her side on the sofa. If there would be no farewells and no sleep either, then she would just spend the time looking at him. When she looked over the side of the sofa though he turned his head towards her, his eyes open. It was too dark in the hangar to see his expression clearly, but she could see his eyes gleaming. They stared at each other, Bulma's heart beating louder and louder in her ears. She couldn't stand it, being apart from him, and soon forever. She reached out her hand towards him. He took it and propped himself on his other elbow, putting his face close to hers. He was breathing ragged as he opened his mouth to speak.

'Get a room already!' said Eighteen's mocking voice.

'That does it!' snarled Vegeta, and he leapt to his feet, flinging his pillow at Eighteen clear across the hangar. He threw it with such terrific speed that it caught her by surprise and knocked a cry out of her as it exploded into an enormous cloud of feathers.

Eighteen sputtered, spitting feathers. 'You suck, Vegeta!'

'What about you, Sixteen?' he spat. 'Got any nuggets of judgement to pass down on me tonight?'

Bulma could just make out Sixteen's shape in the dark. 'No. I do not envy you,' he said solemnly. 'Your hand was forced.'

'Bah!' He growled at them, throwing himself back down on the mattress, muttering about sanctimonious robots, and the mood of a minute ago was shattered.

Bulma sat up, desperate to know what he had been about to say before Eighteen's interruption.

'Why don't we just go to the house?' she said quietly. 'So we don't have to disturb Eighteen's beauty sleep?'

'Fine' he said, snatching up the mattress with its sheets and blankets.

Feeling conflicted she grabbed her own sheets and pillow and followed him back into the house. There they made the beds. Bulma still had two pillows. She passed Vegeta one and he stood there between the two beds, holding it, eyes on the floor.

 _Shit._ She felt suddenly foolish with her wish for the heart to heart talk she'd led them in here for. She wanted him to tell her that he had loved her all along, and would miss her forever, but how would that ever happen? The only thing likely to happen between them alone in this room was that the undying embers of their attraction would burst into flame again, and she didn't know if she wanted that, not now that she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was leaving her to go back to his true wife.

He raised his eyes to hers and Bulma felt an uncomfortable blush creeping up on her. She saw the same conflict in him that she felt in herself.

She had plenty of time to stop him, but she was paralysed by indecision as he leant forward in slow, inexorable motion to press his lips to hers. Lust and shame blossomed through her like wine laced with poison. He tossed the pillow on her bed and then slowly pushed her back down next to it. He kissed her, running his hand through her hair, then kissed her face, kissed her throat, kissed her in desperation, and each touch burned with passion and indictment; each touch took a little of her self worth away.

But she didn't want it to feel like this!

'No!' she said, trying to push him away, struggling under the weight of him. He rose up on his knees above her and he hesitated for a second. Then his face twisted in pain. He pulled her up off the bed, pressing her to him hard - too hard - burying his face in her neck and sobbing 'Bulma!' This wasn't like last night, or any other night with him – this was different, and her skin crawled with shame at the feel of his lips on her throat.

'No!' she yelped, trying to pull away from him again. 'Get off me!'

He dropped her as suddenly as he'd grabbed her, and he roared, a sound of frustration and despair that was shockingly loud in the small room. Bulma backed up against the wall, half wishing she hadn't stopped him.

He tore his gaze from her and stared to the side, keeping his eyes down, his face stern as he asked 'What then are we here for?'

'I don't know! Not for this! It's not right – not now that you're going home to _her_ tomorrow!'

'I feel as much for you as for her! You are her!'

'But I'm not her! We're _not_ the same!' she cried, and the last bit slipped out without her meaning it to. 'You picked _her_ over me!'

He clenched his jaw. 'There is no other choice.'

'No, of course there isn't. You've got history, kids, blah, blah.'

He turned away, picking up his pillow and throwing himself down on the trundle bed. He covered his head with his pillow and crossed his arms over the top. Bulma pressed her hands to her mouth to stop herself from crying. This had been a disaster. She got into bed and turned the light out and the silence rolled over her, chokingly.

'I just thought,' she said eventually, 'that we could say our goodbyes in private where we didn't have to worry about what the other two thought.'

She heard him lift the pillow off his face. 'Goodbye, Bulma.'

That was more than a little crushing. But really, was there any more to say?

'Goodbye, Vegeta.'

But Vegeta did have one more thing to say, his voice sounding strangled.

'Gogeta was right. My heart is not cut out for time travel.'

She wanted to agree, but she couldn't talk. She turned her face into her pillow tried to muffle her heartbreak in it. She had told him that having him for a little while was worth whatever pain it cost her. Well now it was time to pay the piper.

* * *

She dreamt that Trunks was a baby, and she had lost him. She ran around her parent's house, calling his name and searching everywhere. Now and then she heard his baby giggles, or saw a flash of his chubby leg as he crawled round a corner. She chased him down the stairs and through the kitchen, somehow never being fast enough to catch him, becoming frantic as she saw the door to the garden was open and he was in the flowerbeds. She pushed through the rose bushes, getting caught on their thorns, and tearing the skin of her arms and hands as she pursued him, but he was shrinking! He was the size of her fist, and small enough that he could hide behind plant pots. Then he was the size of a mouse, and she was looking for him under rocks, leaves, petals, screaming his name, terrified that one false step and she'd crush the life out of her baby…

The panic of the dream transmuted directly into stomach-clenching anticipation as she woke. Vegeta was already awake, sitting up on the trundle bed and leaning against the wall. Adrenalin washed through her as she remembered that today was the day – they would head out into the dangerous river of time and find her child at last! She didn't waste time slowly coming to consciousness like she usually did. She got up, chose her clothes and paused at the door with her back to the room while Vegeta rifled his meagre wardrobe. When he was done she led the way into the bathroom. She showered, and then once Vegeta took his turn in the shower she dressed, hands shaking with nervousness.

She spotted the ball of bloodstained, scorched and torn clothes in the corner where Vegeta had tossed them after he came back from the fight with Goku. His boots were split and burnt too. Unwearable.

'Your boots are ruined Vegeta.'

'I know.'

'What will you wear?'

There was a pause from behind the shower curtain. 'It hardly matters.'

She wondered if any of Trunks's shoes would fit him, as she brushed her teeth, but then realised that she could do one better than that, assuming she could find them. As he got out of the shower she kept her eyes averted, but still glimpsed in the mirror his muscled back as he towelled himself dry, and felt a great stab of jealousy towards the woman that got to keep him.

 _Forget about that Bulma!_ she told herself. _You've got bigger things to fret about today!_

Once he was dressed she told him to follow her into the first, small lab - the one basically used as a junk room from which anything of real value had been removed. Dusty boxes and broken equipment were stacked on and under the benches. The tube that held the foul grub-like Cell was in the corner, forgotten like it had for the last three months.

'Let me just find something.'

She wandered down the bench, guided by a memory so vague it was more of a feeling. Pulling out the first couple of boxes she found a battered tool bag chock full of capsules.

'I think it's in one of these,' she said.

'What is?'

'You'll see.' She began popping them open in the floor one by one. Most of them were empty. A few contained random items – a bicycle, a pile of folded vinyl sheets, a rack of outdated computer processors. Nearly the last capsule out of the bag revealed a box containing four shiny new sets of Saiyan style armour, four pairs of never-worn white boots with gold toe caps and four pairs of white gloves.

'Huh!' said Vegeta, reaching to snag one pair of boots.

'They were my new armour prototypes for you. I never got the chance to give them to you.'

'I am familiar with your designs,' he said, pulling on the boots. He stamped them and wriggled his toes. 'They fit.'

Bulma felt a small measure of satisfaction that the time she had put in to them all those years ago hadn't been entirely in waste. She pulled the box back towards her, about to encapsulate it again, but Vegeta reached in again and selected a pair of gloves.

'I thought you didn't wear those any more?' she said. He pulled them on, carefully and deliberately, his face set in some granite expression. It made her uneasy.

'Needs must,' he said softly.

In his black jeans and black singlet, white boots and gloves and wearing an icy black expression he looked more than ever like the feral Prince of twenty years ago. A shiver ran down her spine, and then she gave a shriek as he lifted his hand and shot a small chi ball at something over her shoulder. She whirled, expecting the Kai or worse, but instead the Perspex tube that had held the Cell larvae was gushing liquid from the hole that had pierced it. The larva thrashed obscenely for a second, and then was still, steaming slightly. It was a very precise strike – nothing behind the grub was damaged.

'I don't need that thing any more,' he said. 'Best to take care of it now, before it is forgotten.'

She almost pulled away when he reached out and grabbed her shoulder roughly, but he had merely transmitted them to Korin's tower.

Korin took a step back when he saw Vegeta's face.

'We can't waste time here,' said Vegeta without any preamble. 'We don't have any communicators so we have no idea what's going on in the lab or hangar while we're gone.'

'Well smashing your communicator against the wall in temper was probably not the wisest move then.'

'You did what?' asked Bulma, but Vegeta ignored her, instead lifted his front lip in threat at Korin.

'Are you coming with us _cat?_ '

'I said I was, didn't I?'

Peevishly Korin packed up the breakfast he'd laid out and put it in a box with some other supplies. 'Now do your transmission trick _boy_.'

Vegeta growled back, but laid his hands on both Korin and Bulma's shoulders.

They ate their breakfast picnic style in the hangar. Eighteen got up off the couch when they arrived and sat down by Bulma again. She still had feathers stuck to her.

'If you call me Pussy face again girl, I'll tan your hide!' Korin said to her.

'Whatever _Korin_.'

Korin's nose and ears were flushing red from the treatment he was getting.

'Sorry I hang out with such savages these days Korin,' said Bulma. 'I'll make it up to you someday, somehow.'

He'd brought yoghurt, fresh fruit and nut biscuits. Bulma ate as much as she could, even though it was a struggle to swallow past her nerves. Eighteen ate too. Bulma wondered why the cyborg was starting to eat more and more when she had told them she hadn't eaten for years just over a week ago. She added _ask Eighteen why she's eating_ to the list of things to do after they got Trunks back. Also _take the bomb out of Sixteen and delete his core directives_ was on that to do list. She never wanted him to be reduced to that raging, murderous machine again. Sixteen was standing by the time machine, and saw her looking. He smiled reassuringly.

Just behind him on the floor were the pulverised bits of communicator. So Vegeta smashed one against the wall, and what? Crushed the other one? Exactly what had happened in those few hours she had slept yesterday morning?

_I do not envy you. Your hand was forced._

That's what Sixteen had said last night. She hadn't questioned it at the time because she'd been so focused on Vegeta…but what a strange thing to say. Vegeta's hand was forced…to do what? But she would ask him later, because now the hour was upon them.

Sixteen opened the hangar doors and went to fetch Bulma and Trunks's binoculars, which were in her hoverjet. She had forgotten they would need them. Oolong arrived just before they were about to embark.

Korin had thoughtfully packed some food for them to take on the time machine.

'I'll wait here until you get back' he said.

'It won't be a long wait – we'll only be gone a minute if we're successful,' she said.

'Then it will be a very long minute indeed.'

'Good luck, Bulma!' said Oolong. 'And Vegeta too, I guess.'

'You'd better make yourself scarce,' she said to Eighteen. 'I don't know what Trunks will do if he sees you when he comes back.'

Eighteen nodded. 'You'll tell him though, right? Not to kill us.'

'Yes.'

'Don't wait to long to tell him.' She looked back over her shoulder at Vegeta. 'So long, Jerk!' Despite the overt hostility, Bulma thought she caught real sadness in her words to Vegeta.

She took off out of the hangar doors. Bulma watched her go for a second, trying to get her head around the metamorphosis in the girl. It was breaking her head trying to compare her to the thing she had wished dead with all her heart for so many years. What was it about herself that seemed to attract repentant monsters?

Now that Bulma had built the lower hatch she didn't want to use it. It was cramped and claustrophobic, and all a passenger could see once they were in it was the ground beneath them and the small relay screen fed from the controls above. As Vegeta headed up the stepladder and she followed him, he sneered at her.

'Don't trust me to pilot the damn thing? I'm not sitting underneath!'

She nearly baulked at the disdain in his voice. Why hurt her like this now? It pissed her off.

'I built this machine and I'm damn well piloting it! But you don't need to sit below, there should be enough room in the cockpit for two.'

It was a tight fit jammed in next to each other side by side. Vegeta crossed his arms and radiated annoyance. Bulma looked around the hangar from this high vantage point. She was almost hyperventilating now, expecting the damn Kai to try some last minute gambit to prevent them taking off.

'Goodbye!' she yelled, flipping on the power. The dome came down, sealing them from Korin, Oolong and Sixteen's well wishes.

'Calm,' commanded Vegeta.

She gave him a withering look and powered on the hover jets and they lifted into the sky. High above Capsule Corp and the broken remains of the city she checked the time and spatial co-ordinates they had programmed last night, flipped on the cloaking device and primed the capacitators for jump. With the infinite power source it didn't take long. The hum of the fully charged capacitators make her bowels feel watery with apprehension and her hand hovered above the jump button, shaking. If this worked, the jump would take them to the universe with the next programmed vibrational beacon from Vegeta's time machine – Trunks's first jump.

'I hope we don't die,' she said.

Vegeta slapped her hand down on the button and the world outside the dome went black for a second… and then they were in a different sky, a bright blue day hanging over the bleak stone valleys and ridges of the Northern wastelands. Bulma let herself relax a little and snatched up her binoculars.

'He's to the left,' said Vegeta as she cast around. He had his eyes closed.

The smug bastard was using his chi sense. Bulma spotted the black time machine about two hundred yards away.

'In theory he got here one minute ago,' she said, and guided their machine closer to Trunks.

'Not too close,' warned Vegeta as they got within fifty yards or so. 'I've got to keep my power levels so low I'm practically asleep as it is. He's probably sweeping the area frantically so he's not caught unguarded. If you're not careful he'll sense _you!_ ' Bulma trained her binoculars on the cockpit of the other machine and her heart swelled with joy to see her son's face, bent forward over the controls and his hair falling thick in front of his eyes.

'Trunks!' she squealed, almost leaping out of the seat.

'Calm!' snapped Vegeta. 'What did I just say? Your chi just sparked like a firecracker.'

'Scuse me! No-one's ever taught me to control it.'

Trunks found what he was looking for on the time machine's dashboard – the cloaking device. He winked out of sight.

'Here we come,' said Vegeta. 'Over that ridge behind us.'

'Already?' she said. 'But we don't show up until Frieza was about to land. It's two hours early!'

She turned the machine and for a little while she could see nothing, and then two tiny figures touched down out of the sky – one in a pink shirt. Vegeta and Yamcha. Then a small high speed hover jet which she knew her younger self was piloting.

'For a reason I've never been able to fathom, in every time line except the original, Frieza's craft beats Goku to Earth by two hours.'

'How many times have you seen this?'

'A few.'

'And how do you know what happened in the original?'

'By talking to people who lived through it, like you did. It's a mark of how close to the original timeline a universe lies, if the people who live in it remember Goku and Frieza arriving at the same time or not.'

'If Frieza gets here two hours earlier, what does that mean?' she said as she watched Tien, Chao-Tsu, Gohan and Krillin touch down, tiny, tiny even through the binoculars, and then finally notice Piccolo standing on the pinnacle next to them. It gave her an awfully odd feeling to be spying on the dead like this.

'It means that Trunks is going to jump the gun…probably.'

The sky was suddenly torn above them as a disk shaped spaceship cleaved through the atmosphere. Bulma's hands hovered over the controls, ready to move them if it looked like cleaving them also, but it settled in to land below them on its many insectile legs, throwing up a huge cloud of dust. The door of the ship opened and Bulma saw soldiers pour out of it, followed by a hideous, small pale creature and a nearly as hideous pink and purple one.

'Trunks is making his move,' said Vegeta, looking in the opposite direction. He was grinning. She swivelled and saw Trunks leap from the cockpit of the now-uncloaked black time machine and hurtle towards the soldiers who were just rising into the air. She trained her binoculars on him in time to see him draw his sword and-

She started, hardly breathing at the ruthless, swift violence her son was dealing. She'd seen him train and seen him fight androids enough times, but nothing had prepared her to see her own flesh and blood chop other beings into body parts without a moment's hesitation or mercy.

She made a choking sound.

'So far, so normal,' said Vegeta in tones of satisfaction.

'Vegeta, he just…he just…!'

'What are you yammering about?'

'He just killed them…like _that!_ '

'Well of course he did!'

She gave him a glance, and saw his utter lack of appreciation for the horror she'd just witnessed. Goku would not have done what Trunks just did – wordlessly murder a dozen men without giving them any chance to lay down arms or surrender. She didn't know why she should be surprised though that Trunks had inherited his father's killer instinct. She'd never seen it in action before, and didn't wish to again.

The figures below were talking now. Suddenly all the remaining soldiers leapt at Trunks. He dismembered them as swiftly as he had the others. Bulma felt a sweat of fear and nausea break out on her forehead.

'I guess now we find out if the plan went wrong here then,' she said weakly, as Trunks faced Frieza and his father. Vegeta picked up the other binoculars now, smiling.

'I never get sick of this part.'

Frieza fired a bolt of energy at Trunks, which the kid deflected, scattering it far and wide in every direction. One beam narrowly missed them.

'Are we actually safe up here?'

'If it gets hairy I'll throw up a chi shield,' said Vegeta.

Trunks then powered up to Super Saiyan, theatrically. She had the feeling he was showing off to Frieza, perhaps taunting him. God, her child was more like his father than she'd ever known! Frieza blasted Trunks again, more powerfully.

'He's fine!' barked Vegeta when she jumped. 'It's just as it always is. Freiza will not win this fight.'

When the dust cleared and Frieza and his father had retreated to the roof of their craft, Trunks stood there still, not a mark on him. She saw a globe of destructive chi expand from Frieza's fingertip, and even from here sense the burning, hateful energy of it, like hellfire in a bubble. When it was the size of a large house he launched it at Trunks and buried him yards deep into the ground.

Bulma screamed but Vegeta chuckled. The ball of energy halted its path and moved back up towards the sky. Trunks threw it off and disappeared, reappearing on a spire of rock close by. Whatever he said to Frieza next had the monster launching himself in attack at the boy. Her heart leapt into her throat. He'd just sliced Frieza in half. To make sure the job was done he then flashed his sword through the body again and again until Frieza was in bite sized pieces, then fried the pieces to cinders with a blast of hot chi.

'Urgh, he made him really, really dead.'

'I believe it was _you_ who taught the boy not to make the same mistake as Kakarott did.'

'What makes you say that?'

'He told me once.'

Next they watched him confront and destroy Frieza's father, and finally join the others where they had gathered to watch the end of the fight. Even without the binoculars she could make out her own boofy headful of blue curls. That had been a high maintenance hair do. She'd never make that mistake again.

They all rose into the air, tracking towards the site that Goku would land, and Bulma stalked them from above in the cloaked time machine.

'I don't suppose you gave Trunks a capsule full of chilled beer and sodas before he left did you?' asked Vegeta.

'No.'

When they reached the site she watched them through the binoculars again. They were close enough to make out their faces now, and her heart ached to join them.

'Time to jump ahead,' said Vegeta. 'This part is boring.'

They jumped ahead nearly two hours and were just in time to see Goku's capsule crash into the dirt. Everyone rushed to greet him, and they floated disconnected overhead. Bulma didn't want Vegeta to see her cry again, so she held all the longing for her old friends inside. Trunks drew Goku away and then they had some sort of Super Saiyan stand off. Vegeta seemed unconcerned, and when she thought about it she was not surprised that Trunks would like to see Goku's powers in action. She and Gohan had sold him pretty hard on the wonder of the man.

Then they talked. At one point Goku seemed to be laughing.

'He just told Kakarott who his father is,' said Vegeta, without humour. 'I've no idea why the fool finds the idea so amusing.'

Then the second moment she'd been waiting for occurred – Trunks handed over the vial of antidote.

'Right, I think we're done here,' she said, bringing up the next jump. The same universe, but the next day was what was programmed. They would alter the course of this universe's history before Trunks jumped back in it and made another branch. Vegeta continued watching out the window and when she looked out she saw Goku suddenly fall over and roll on the ground in front of Trunks, as if in pain. Vegeta snorted.

'What?' She snatched up the binoculars again and saw that it was not pain but open-mouthed, incredulous laughter that had Goku on the ground.

'That's the part where Trunks tells Kakarott who his mother is,' said Vegeta. 'Apparently the thought of us as lovers is too much to believe.'

Bulma huffed.

They continued watching until finally Trunks took off into the sky. They tracked him back to his own machine, but instead of jumping immediately he flew the machine back to where the others were still standing talking. Goku demonstrated his instant transmission and there was further discussion. When the group took off in different directions Bulma's hand hovered over the jump button again. Surely he would jump now?

But instead Trunks flew the machine away, keeping high.

'What on Earth is he doing?' said Vegeta.

'He doesn't usually do this?'

'No! Stay on him.'

They followed him for a long time while Bulma projected their flight path on the navigation system.

'He's heading to Paozu Mountain,' she said.

'What for?'

Bulma thought back. What had they agreed he would do? She'd been so relying on Vegeta's account of what happening this day in his timeline that she had forgotten that things might be different.

'I told him he should train with the Z fighters to get stronger and fight the androids. He must be going to train with Goku.'

Vegeta glowered out at the black time machine up ahead.

'Who knows how much this could change things?'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Please review! I write from compulsion but reviews take me to a higher level of obsession with writing. Don't be shy - feed the author!


	38. The Rescue, Part Two

They tracked him all the way to the Son household, nestled into the fields and trees on the side of Paozu Mountain.

'Dammit, this makes things even trickier!' growled Vegeta. 'When is he going to make his next jump?'

Trunks parked his machine a distance away from the house and then walked to the front door. Chichi, Goku and Gohan all greeted him at the door, which then closed, leaving them blind to all that was going on inside.

Bulma set the machine to jump ahead one hour. The black time machine remained parked. She waited for the capacitators to prime again. Another hour, still there. She did this again and again, jumping through the evening and the night one hour at a time.

'Is this it?' she said. 'Is he going to spend the whole time until the androids arrive staying with Goku and Chichi? Maybe we shouldn't wait for him to leave, just make the swap now.'

Finally their jumps showed them more than just the outside of the Son house. Goku and Gohan came out, followed by Trunks. Piccolo was landing, swooping down over their machine to land next to the other three. But then he turned and looked back over his shoulder towards where their machine lurked, giving the area a suspicious and calculating eye.

'Shit!' said Bulma, but Vegeta reached up and clamped a hand over her mouth. Piccolo's eyes narrowed and then he finally turned back to the others. The four of them flew away, heading up the mountain, far away from the house.

'That Namek's senses are more perceptive than the others,' Vegeta warned. 'He can hear a whisper a hundred yards away.'

'Shall we swap the vial now? Or wait till Trunks has left? _If_ he leaves?'

'Not now. Kakarott's mate is still in the house.'

She fast forwarded hour by hour again. Chichi did not leave the house, but eventually all the Saiyans had returned.

'Is he staying for dinner or staying for three years?' fretted Bulma.

'Woman, you should not have told him to train with the others!'

'Why the hell not? It was a pretty good idea at the time actually! Just because it's not what happened in your timeline doesn't make it the wrong thing for him to do.'

'How are we to make any meaningful prediction about this future if we let Trunks get so far away from what happened in my timeline? Anything could-'

Vegeta suddenly dropped their argument to look behind them. He swore and the time machine rocked, a blaze of energy wrapping around his hastily thrown up chi shield. Piccolo stood in the afterglow of his attack, peering quizzically at the machine he couldn't see. He was talking, but they couldn't make out his words.

'What do we do now?' shrieked Bulma as Piccolo lifted his arm for another shot.

'We don't let him blow us up, that's for sure!'

Vegeta hit the cloaking button, revealing themselves, and popped the dome release. Piccolo gasped.

'Vegeta, I thought it was you! What are you doing snooping on Goku? And Bulma!' He looked backwards and forwards between them and the time machine. 'What's going on here?'

'It would take an age to explain,' said Vegeta. 'You already know that the boy Trunks is from the future. Trust us when we say that we are too. Leave us be, and tell no-one we were here.'

'Not even Trunks!' added Bulma.

Piccolo floated up till he was at eye level with them, his gaze flitting around the cockpit, their clothes and themselves. 'You're dead in the future Vegeta. Should I trust a dead man? Although I can see that you _are_ older, so maybe what you say is true.' Vegeta growled, and Bulma realised that Vegeta might possibly be sensitive about his age, as ludicrous as that seemed. 'You though Bulma, don't look any different. Though you are _.'_

'Vegeta's not dead because he's from _this_ future, not mine,' she said in an attempt to explain. Piccolo's mouth went slack, and she realised she wasn't making any sense to him. 'Look, we're just trying to make the future turn out right. Do you know how long Trunks is planning on staying here with Goku?'

'He's here to train he said. So we're training.'

'Well get rid of him,' said Vegeta. 'Send him into the wilderness or the hyperbolic time chamber if you must, but I'll not have my son trained by Kakarott before I have the chance!'

'That isn't what's important here, Vegeta!' she said.

'Yes it is! He barely survived the hyperbolic time chamber with me, and if I had to listen to him talk about Kakarott training him as well I'd probably kill him!'

'You wouldn't! Your own son!'

'Mine! And not Kakarott's! You might be forgetting that the me in this time is not so soft and cuddly as I am!'

'Soft!' She made a choking sound. ' _Cuddly?_ '

Piccolo shuddered at her shrill tone and folded his arms. 'I can certainly believe you are Bulma and Vegeta – you're both already getting on my nerves. All right, I'll do as you say; I'll get rid of the kid. But only because he creeps me out, and not just at the thought of what went into his creation.'

'You mouthy green turnip! It's a good job for you we're in a hurry, or I'd have you laughing on the other side of your face!'

'Pathetic,' said Piccolo.

Vegeta began to stand up out of the seat, but Bulma hung on to his arm, attempting to keep him in it.

'Guys! This is pointless! He said he'd do as we said, so let him do it!'

Vegeta sat back down and gave Piccolo a shrewd look that broke into a gloating grin. 'Think about this conversation in a few years time and see if you still think I'm pathetic.'

Piccolo merely snorted in contempt, then turned his back on them and flew off into the night.

'Arrogant ass,' Vegeta grumbled.

Bulma rolled her eyes at the hypocrisy.

As they cycled through the night, one hour at a time, it occurred to Bulma that now was an ideal opportunity to bring forward the later stage of their plan.

'Vegeta, I'm going to install the N-clipper now. Before he has a chance to make another unpredictable move.'

Vegeta looked at her warily and then slowly nodded his head. It was around four o'clock in the morning for the sleeping Son family; the household should be deeply asleep. They cracked the dome again and Vegeta picked Bulma up to jump to the ground. They tip-toed through the grass to the other machine, armed with a flashlight, tools and N-clipper. Vegeta used his remote to open the hatch and then lifted them both up into the cockpit. He crouched on the rim holding the light while Bulma stood in the floor well, unbolting the seat for direct access to the time drive below. She was momentarily stymied by the unfamiliar layout, but even so, it was the work of minutes, and then they were done, flying back to their own machine.

Fast-forwarding through to the next evening the black time machine was gone after dinner time. Bulma backed up half an hour, then five minutes, then ten minutes, and then they got to witness Trunks saying goodbye to the Son family. Bulma wondered what Piccolo had done or said to move him on. It was a little risky to go backwards in time with the N-clipper while the machine remained stationary she realised. If they ended up overlapping themselves...well, she was sure it wouldn't be good. It also risked creating a time loop which carried unknown consequences, something that was impossible without an N-clipper. Vegeta had told her the Time Patroller Trunks had mentioned a traveller who tried to undo his own past with the N-clipper and was never seen from again. They couldn't risk doing anything when going back in time that would contradict their own selves' path to getting to that point. She felt sweat prickle on her forehead at the thought, but they would only stay the minute or two it took to confirm Trunks's departure. It occurred to her that maybe the N-clippers were double-edged swords.

At last Trunks got into the machine, raised it up into the air and jumped.

'Time or space, it doesn't matter – the way is now clear for us to do the swap!' said Bulma she said with relief. But first they needed an empty house. The next hour was very tedious for them while they scanned through the days looking for one where Chichi actually left the house for longer than it took to hang the washing or take care of the animals. When they found it though it was a sizeable chunk of time. She must've taken the hoverjet down to the city to go shopping – they moved backwards and forwards and found at least five hours in which the house was empty.

They made their move, pulling on the rubber gloves and vinyl booties that they'd taken from the broken med lab so that their scent wouldn't be left all over the house for Goku to detect, and then entered through the upstairs window. Bulma was assailed by a sense of loss as she looked around the modest, homely house, imagining it as she had last seen it - a burnt out shell.

She led them to the bathroom first, and rummaged the bathroom cabinet while Vegeta sifted the vanity drawers.

'Nothing,' he complained. 'Nothing except lotion to be "applied once daily to the buttocks for rash."'

'Vegeta, I don't want to know!'

'You don't even want to know who it was prescribed to?'

'Gohan surely.'

'Wrong,' he said, chuckling.

'No! I don't want to know!'

Next they searched down stairs in the kitchen, which took a lot longer, searching every draw and cupboard. Vegeta searched the fridge. When she looked up he was cutting a fat wedge from a cake he'd found in a box in the fridge.

'What are you doing?!' she exclaimed.

'What's it look like?' he said, round a mouthful. 'No matter how annoying Kakarott's demon woman is, she's a good cook.'

'You can't steal their food!'

'Kakarott wouldn't mind.'

'Vegeta, this is _food_ we're talking about – Goku _would_ mind! Besides, what are they going to think when food goes missing?' It was ginger cake he was munching. She could smell it's tempting aroma from here. Ground ginger…she hadn't seen any of that for years. For that matter, she hadn't seen wheat flour either…

'Chichi will blame Kakarott, Kakarott will blame Gohan, and Gohan will also blame Kakarott, and I get fed. It's a win-win situation.'

'What! I can't believe you'd steal from your friends!'

He shifted his shoulders uncomfortably. 'I stole from everyone and anyone. How do you think I found most of my meals whilst travelling through time?'

It was a sad thought – Vegeta reduced to a thief to feed himself. She could see he wasn't proud of it, although she suspected it was because of the lowly, dishonourable nature of the crime rather than the fact that it _was_ a crime. Nevertheless, he was feeding his face on sticky delicious cake.

'There's still half the cake left if you want some,' he said as she watched him raise the cake for another massive bite.

* * *

They searched the dining and living room next, Bulma still licking her lips from her ill-gotten treat. She missed flour!

'Damn, damn! Where they heck could they have stashed it? It's not like they've got a lot of furniture!'

Finally there were only the bedrooms to search. Vegeta cautiously slid open the top draw of a chest of draws to be confronted with a jumbled pile of Goku and Chichi's underwear. He shuddered, and began to delve in.

'This is a new low Woman!'

She was just as timid about going into the bedside drawers. She knew what she had been known to keep in hers at times, and didn't really wish to know if Goku and Chichi shared her habits. Strangely though, one held mostly high school prospectuses and a lone romance novel. The other one…well, that was more like the contents of a small boy's pockets, if that small boy also had use for the prophylactic devices that were scattered amongst. String, pocket knives, broken watches, a dried lizard, dried acorn cups, old World Martial Arts Tournament programs, marbles… _marbles?_ And everything was slightly grubby.

'Found it,' she announced, holding up the vial of antidote and replacing it with the good one.

'Thank the gods! Lets get out of here so I can burn these rubber gloves!'

Back in the garden Vegeta wasn't kidding, and burnt the rubber gloves they had worn to stinking ash with a shot of chi. 'I still feel soiled on the inside' he said.

'Drama queen,' she replied. They ate some of the food Korin had given them whist staring out at the house with the dome up.

While they ate Bulma remembered the question she had put aside this morning.

'What did you mean about Sixteen passing judgements on you?' she asked him.

'I don't know what you're talking about.'

'Last night. You said that, and Sixteen said your hand was forced. What did he mean?'

Vegeta's face went rigid. 'That is between him and me,' he said.

'Huh,' she said. 'What is the point of secrets now? In a few hours I'll never see you again.' It stuck in her throat to say that; the words catching on the emotions that lay so shallow under the surface, snarling them into an angry and bitter complaint. She _was_ angry and bitter! She immediately wished she hadn't said anything. Vegeta turned his head away from her, looking out down the wooded slopes of the mountain. Their little lunch break was ruined.

She stared at the back of his head, wanting to scream at him all of a sudden for leaving her. She wanted to tell him to stay, but knowing why he wanted to go, she couldn't ask that! And she wouldn't beg. Not this time.

She swallowed down the rage. It would be a very uncomfortable few hours if she gave in to it now. She wished she wasn't rammed into the bubble of the time machine hard against him. She wondered if he wanted to get away from her as much as she did him.

'Here's another question then,' she said, after a few moments, keeping her voice even and conversational. 'If there's an Eastern Supreme Kai, does that mean there is also Southern and Western and Northern Supreme Kais?'

Vegeta cleared his throat and answered without turning back to her.

'Yes.'

'Why have we only seen the Eastern one? Are we in the Eastern part of the universe?'

'No. But Kibito Kai is the strongest of most warrior-like of the Kai. The Eastern Supreme Kai was smaller and gentler than he is now, but he accidentally fused with his bodyguard Kibito. It made him far stronger, but it was permanent. The other Kai are too scared to come down to any world where I may be lurking. Also, he knows me from before I ever time travelled.'

'Don't tell me – he was your friend too?'

Vegeta snorted. 'No. Though we didn't used to be enemies.'

After a few minutes he heaved a sigh and turned back to the control panel.

'Lets see how well that fresh antidote worked out,' he said. 'Now it's my turn to drive.'

* * *

From this point on their plan was based upon Vegeta's memories and his scruffy handwritten notes he had amassed over the years. The next jump took them three years into the future and to another stretch of wilderness. A large stone flagged arena with a stone pillar in each corner lay before them in the distance, and a lone green figure hung over it. A news helicopter was buzzing on the peripheral.

'Welcome to the Cell Games,' said Vegeta. They looked through their binoculars at the small group of warriors assembling along the top of a low rise. 'Looks like everyone is present and correct.'

She could see all the Z-fighters and was surprised to see Sixteen as well...And Trunks, who's hair was long and tied back, and who was wearing a set of Saiyan armour, boots, gloves and jumpsuit just like the younger Vegeta next to him!

'Oh wow!' She felt that this was some sort of outward sign that Trunks had bonded with his father. 'Did you say that you and Trunks trained in the hyperbolic time chamber together?' Maybe while she had got to know Vegeta all over again, this new and improved version, Trunks had been getting to know his young father at the same time, so to speak.

'Yes,' was his stony reply.

She dropped the binoculars and looked at Vegeta. 'Was it…fun?'

He also dropped his binoculars to scowl at her. 'No. Unless achieving the Ascended Saiyan form is counted as fun. The Hyperbolic Time Chamber is the closest thing to Hell on Earth that I can think of. Your weanling barely survived, but it _did_ make him a lot stronger.'

'Weanling!'

He shrugged one shoulder. 'The boy was still wet behind the ears. I don't normally train _with_ anyone, unless I mean to pound them to paste. The solitary nature of our training in the time chamber didn't suit him well, and we neither of us held anything back. To merely survive he did well.'

He backed them up, a long way from the action.

'Let's skip to the end,' he said, selecting the next pre-programmed time and hitting jump.

The arena and the surrounding area were smashed up and the pillars were gone. Sixteen, Goku and Cell were nowhere to be seen and the remaining warriors looked ragged and injured, fanned along the edge of the arena. Cowering behind a rock was a news crew and what looked like a band of rodeo clowns or perhaps pro-wrestlers. They were watching a raging dust storm boiling out of thin air, it's centre obscured. Bulma had her binoculars trained on Trunks and Vegeta when a thin, deadly shaft of energy shot from the whirlwind and went straight through Trunks's chest.

'NO!' she screamed, jumping from the seat and banging her head on the dome.

'Sit down Woman!' said Vegeta, wrestling her down onto his lap. 'You already know that this happened! Trunks died! We revived him, and that's what we'll be checking next.'

'I know! I know! It's just that…'

Vegeta peered out at the scene again. 'I know. I was there Woman.'

She brought the binoculars to her face again, shaking, and saw Gohan stand up to Cell, who stepped out of the dust. Before he could make a move though the younger Vegeta flew at Cell in a full frontal attack. He let fly a massive energy beam so bright she had to lower the binoculars. She didn't need them to see the intense firestorm he rained down on the beast. She could imagine the scream of grief and anger ripping from his throat for his son, and it echoed in her heart. That Trunks even had to suffer the pain of dying was bad enough...Thank god today was _not_ the day she lost Trunks forever!

The young Vegeta fought till he was spent and blasted from the sky by Cell. As Cell came in for the mortal blow a small figure threw itself in front of Vegeta, taking the brunt of it as it dragged them through the dirt with it's force.

'Gohan!' That brave, brave kid. She could see he was injured by the way he held his arm, and yet he still got up and advanced on Cell.

'He is Super Saiyan level two, the first of us to achieve it,' said the Vegeta beside her, grim faced.

He backed the machine up further. She couldn't make out the figures even with the binoculars now, but soon a massive and intense blister of energy was forming, almost too bright to look at. It shuddered and trembled, shifting backwards and forwards, growing, until finally it exploded outwards in a burst that whited out half the sky. Bulma was hardly breathing from the tension.

'It's finished,' said Vegeta. 'Cell is gone, and this timeline appears on track. It must've been the expired antidote as we thought.'

'You were amazing,' she said.

He cringed. 'I was a fool, and a liability in battle that day. That was...Gohan and Goku's day.'

'You just called him Goku!'

He bit his lip. 'So I did.'

He brought up the next time and space co-ordinates. Kami's lookout came into view, a dark sky and the massive green coils of Shenron hanging over it, rippling with electricity. Even inside the time machine they heard his huge booming voice.

'YOUR WISH WILL BE GRANTED.'

Vegeta guided them in closer while Bulma looked around the large concourse of Kami's lookout. Trunks lay on the tiles in his battered and broken armour and then sat up and looked around at the people gathered around him. Gohan helped him to his feet and he joined Yamcha, Krillin, Piccolo, Tien and Chao-Tsu. There seemed to be a great deal of discussion. They seemed upset.

'Why is the dragon still here?' asked Bulma. 'And why are they so unhappy looking?'

'They're trying to figure out how to use the second wish to bring Kakarott back from the dead.'

'Goku's dead? Wait – _second_ wish?'

'Dende's Shenron grants two. And yes, Kakarott is dead, for the time being. They are just probably being told now that he doesn't wish to come back. To keep the Earth safe, he took himself out of the equation so it wouldn't be threatened by his enemies any more.'

'Goku! What a guy!'

'What an inflated sense of self-importance you mean.'

'What do they end up wishing for?'

'Krillin wishes the bombs out of Eighteen and Seventeen because they couldn't be wished human. He trusted there was good in Eighteen's heart.'

Bulma leaned back against Vegeta and stared at the sight of the Eternal Dragon, feeling the power and the glory of it she always had. What she wouldn't do for Dragonballs...Maybe she could get round to building that space ship now that the androids were no longer a threat. Maybe if they could find New Namek she could convince Dende to return to Earth as a new guardian like he did in this timeline?

As if he had read her thoughts Vegeta told her something that crushed that new hope right out. 'Dende has been taken from your timeline. I would have left you with a guardian for the Earth, but he's been stolen from your universe.'

She looked down at his face, his cold expression steadfastly staring outwards, anywhere but at her. There was warmth locked away behind that closed door. He had thought of her well-being, and Trunks's…and their daughter's…She would try and remember that when the day came that she would have to tell the child the sorry tale of how she came to exist.

'Thanks for trying, Vegeta.'

'I don't deserve your thanks, Woman.'

'IT HAS BEEN DONE,' came the dragon's voice.

The dragon pulsed with intense golden light and wound back up into the glowing dragonballs, which rose into the air and streaked away on seven different directions.

'It is done indeed,' said Vegeta, with a sigh of relief.

He pressed the jump button and now they were in he air above the Capsule Compound. Bulma's heart squeezed to see it just as she remembered it before the androids levelled West City. The black time machine was parked in the garden outside the house, and it was evening, getting dark.

'We have only a narrow window of opportunity here, though we have bought ourselves some breathing room by putting the N-clipper in already,' said Vegeta. 'We should have about an hour before I return. Gather the note and let's go.'

As soon as he said those words Bulma had a slithering feeling of dread. The note in question, that they had spent so long labouring over the composition of last night, she didn't recall packing with their other supplies this morning. She remembered folding it and leaving it on the small bench in the hangar the Eighteen and the Kai half destroyed, and thought to herself _I mustn't forget it's there_. She rummaged the cloth bag that Trunks had given them the N-clippers in, in which she had packed the other things they had needed for the day.

'Oh _no!_ '

'Don't say you don't have it!'

She unpacked all the odds and ends form the bag onto the seat next to Vegeta, item by item in case it was just hiding from her. It wasn't. When she lifted her eyes to look at him he swore loudly.

'I don't even have a pen to write another one,' she said.

'Well we can't just change the destination time and not leave a note!' he said. 'If he notices and changes it back he'll end up making a time loop with that N-clipper!'

'I know!' Kami, what could they do? 'Vegeta, I'll have to get pen and paper from the house and write a new note.'

'That's...risky.'

'I only need to run into the kitchen! I know where there should be paper and pens. In and out.'

He thought for a moment. 'I'll check the coast is clear, then change the return date while you're inside. I'll meet you under the other time machine.'

They slipped out of the cloaked time machine and dropped down to the garden.

'They're all upstairs. Go!' whispered Vegeta, and she took off running across the lawn, and in up the steps through the back door to the kitchen. It all felt a little dream-like seeing this place she though she'd never see again. The sight of the kitchen hit her like a physical blow, and for a second she stood there dumbly, forgetting even her reason for being there. It was exactly how she remembered it. Even the smell of the kitchen triggered a cascade of memories.

'Move it Bulma!' she snapped at herself. She jumped to the corner unit where a phone hung on the wall, and opened the little draw under it, grabbing the notepad and a pen that her family kept there. She was about to dash back out when an idea came to her. Scribbling fast she wrote:

_Whatever you do, and whatever the temptation, DO NOT build a time machine. It is better for your loved ones to die and spend eternity with you in the Next World than it is to lose them forever in another universe, and you will do untold damage to the multiverse if you try. The Supreme Kai of the universe told me so. Bulma._

Then she folded the paper and wrote _For Bulma_ on the back of it, and pinned it to the noticeboard next to the phone.

The she began writing the second note.

_Dear Trunks_

_We changed the time that you return to us in the computer. Whatever you do, don't change it back! I can't emphasise this enough! Our very existence hangs on it. Just trust me on this one._

_Love from Mom. Yes, your actual Mom! And to prove it I'll tell you that_

But before she finished a voice made her leap out of her skin with fright.

'Oh, there you are, Bulma!' It was her mother, her bright, bubbly mother coming through the door in her fluffy pink slippers. 'Did I give you a start? I'm sorry, dear!'

Bulma was frozen, choking on some sublime mix of joy and anguish.

'Mom?' she said, her voice breaking. Her mother immediately rushed to her side.

'What is it dear? Is something wrong?'

Bulma shook her head as her mother gathered her in for a hug.

'I know dear, it's been a long day with the boys going off to fight that dreadful Cell person. Why don't you sit yourself down and I'll make you a hot chocolate?'

She found herself deposited at the kitchen table, tears streaming silently down her cheeks as her mother got milk out of the fridge to heat it. She should leave. But she just couldn't make herself get up. Just a minute or two more with her mother, listening to her confident prattle about this and that...would that really hurt?

'Bulma, why are you wearing such old shabby clothes?' her mother was asking. 'Have you been working outside on something messy?' Bulma merely nodded. 'Well, you'll wear yourself out working after a day like this! I thought you were going to cut Trunks's hair this evening. Oh, isn't it strange! Having two grandsons at the same time, but they're both the same grandson! Well at least we know he grows up handsome! Are you sad because he's leaving tomorrow?'

Her mother plonked the mug of hot chocolate down in front of her and Bulma was finally raised from her stupor to sensible thought. Vegeta would be wondering what had happened to her. She needed to get out of here, but at least her mother mistook her for the Bulma that was upstairs somewhere. She had forgotten that they must look about the same now.

'No,' she said thickly.

'Is it Vegeta?' her mother asked with sympathy.

'What do you mean?'

'I know you're upset that he didn't come back today. You can't hide these things from your mother! But you know what? That boy can't keep away from you. He'll be back, don't you worry.'

Bulma smiled back at her mother, fresh tears spilling over, knowing she was right and wrong in so many ways.

'You're an angel Mom.' She stood up and hugged her again, still holding her hot chocolate. The old familiar smell of her mother's perfume and hairspray wrapped her up in its comforting miasma. 'I love you!'

'I love you too, Bulma dear!'

Bulma forced herself to let go and turn away. Wouldn't it be so much more wonderful to stay here with her son and never go home? Because it felt like _this_ was her _real_ home!

'I got to get back outside to…to my work.'

When she opened the back door Vegeta stood on the top step, staring at her.

'What are you…' she started, and then the words dried up in her throat. His hair was a tall flame. His battle armour was scorched and scuffed. He looked wild and lost, and his eyes locked on Bulma's with a glittering sharpness that made her suck her breath in through her teeth. What had Vegeta said before? _The me in this time is not so soft and cuddly as I am._

'See?' said her mother behind her. 'What did I tell you?'

Bulma couldn't move from panic. Vegeta's eyes had something nasty brewing in their cold, angry depths. _Self-loathing._

'Have you nothing to say to me, Woman?'

'Come in, Vegeta!' cooed her mother. 'Are you hungry?'

Vegeta's jaw clenched, his next words coming out clipped and dangerous. 'Are you not even going to let me in?'

Bulma moved aside and he sprang across the threshold, turning away from her, his shoulders slumped, and he threw himself down in a chair at the table, at the mercy of her mother's ministrations. His butt had hardly hit the seat though before his head snapped up, looking up at the ceiling. Then he stood back up again, looking at Bulma with confusion and suspicion, then back at the ceiling. Then he was running through the door to the hallway, up the stairs to where she knew he could sense another her.

She leapt out the back door, hearing her mother gasp in confusion. She spilt hot cocoa on her hand before remembering that she was carrying it and threw the mug into the rosebushes as she sprinted back across the lawn to the other time machine. She'd made it most of the way there when a dark streak hit her round the middle and yanked her up and into the cockpit of the black time machine.

'He's looking upstairs! He'll figure it out!' she hissed.

'Tell me you've got the note already!'

She nearly shrieked with panic as she scrawled out the last line of the letter:

_...your first kiss was with S'now's daughter S'leeta that day she was selling apples at the market._

She tore the letter off the notepad and slapped it on the dashboard.

'Go!'

Vegeta hefted her roughly, turning in the same instant to hit the remote to close the dome, and Bulma saw the shadow of a flame haired Saiyan cut into the light spilling from the kitchen door.

'Oh –' the scenery changed '- shit!' she cried.

They were above a mountain in the middle of nowhere.

'Are you okay, Woman?' asked Vegeta, turning her in his arms and catching her legs up to sit more comfortably against him.

'Yes.'

The sun had only just dipped below the horizon where they were now.

'I wasn't supposed to be back so soon,'said Vegeta. 'I didn't even go back inside the house till morning - I just sat on the roof all night. An unpredictable difference.'

'I wonder what you - he - that _other_ one, thinks just happened?'

He shook his head. 'Who knows. I just hope there's no way they can find our time machine. The last thing we want is to get time-jacked again.'

Bulma watched a V of geese fly by underneath them, heading into the gold and orange band on the horizon. 'I don't know. It wouldn't be so bad to get stuck here, don't you think? I saw my Mom. She made me hot chocolate…' She laughed as the tears started flowing again, and knew that Vegeta was looking at her closely, which he hadn't all day so far. 'Think I wouldn't mind staying here with Trunks.'

He was silent for a long moment, and then he said softly 'Woman…Bulma…I can't tell you what to do. But I can't stay here. When Trunks gave me the N-clippers and the co-ordinates, he didn't just give me a way home; he gave me a mission. I have a chance to undo a lot of the damage I did…more than I ever knew I had done.' His voice was hoarse. 'I can't refuse. The guilt of a thousand broken universes rests squarely on my shoulders.'

He pressed his face against the top her head, and he pulled her against him harder.

She snorted through her tears. 'Only a megalomaniac like you could make such a grandiose statement in seriousness. And you said Goku had an inflated sense of self-importance!'

He didn't answer her, just shook his head against her hair.

She sighed. 'Don't worry, I'm only kidding. Mostly. Of course I'll go back where I came from. There's a lot of work to be done. I don't want to abandon all the people there, and they'll still need Trunks. And I'll see my parents and all my friends again some day. I can't deny them the chance to spend their eternity with their only daughter and grandson. And I've got to drag you up out of Hell when I die, remember?'

'Woman, you _know_ I don't deserve it!'

He set them down below the tree line of the mountain and they walked in silence through the wind-gnarled mountain beech just to waste time before going back. It was a ghostly, mossy place with the half light filtering through the leaves. The trees were draped with beards of hanging lichen and other fungus. If looked like a forest out of myth, and she would never have guessed it was here. She wondered if he had come here a lot. There were so many things she didn't know about him still, that she would never know. She wandered wherever her eyes alighted, brain far away on the unknown happenings in the Capsule Compound, while Vegeta trailed her silently.

'I guess the Kai will be pleased with you for once, if you're going to undo a pile of damage,' she said eventually.

'They will. But I don't do it for them.'

'How are you going to do it?'

'Collapse a pile of universes with a chain reaction.'

She nodded. She guessed that the N-clippers could do that if you prevented the right event from happening.

'Let us risk the Capsule Compound again,' he said.

* * *

They appeared half a mile from the compound. Vegeta took them closer, slowly, feeling his way and ready to transmit them away at the slightest sign of their detection. They had to uncloak the time machine to find it, then swiftly piled in, recloaking and sweating with haste to set the jump out of there.

The night dimmed to black, and then a moment later morning broke on them through the plexiglass. They were still in the Capsule Compound, but right on the edge of it to minimise detection. They watched through the binoculars for more than an hour until Trunks approached the time machine. The other Bulma followed him carrying a baby Trunks, and her parents behind her. They said their goodbyes, talking and hugging, and then Trunks raised his hand to someone out of sight. Bulma look a moment to find who it was through the binoculars, but finally locked onto the younger Vegeta, leaning up against a tree in the shade. He had two fingers raised in a salute to him.

When Trunks leapt up to the cockpit she held her breath, straining to read his reaction when he found the note. She knew the instant he found it - he picked it up and froze for a long, long moment. Then he looked back out of the cockpit at the others, talking to them. He read the note again, then closed the cockpit, frowning and sat there staring at the dashboard. Then he began pressing buttons.

'Don't change it! Don't change it!' she chanted.

He guided the time machine up into the air and waved one last time at the family below, and the next instant he was gone.

She turned to Vegeta. If they had got this right, Trunks would be waiting for them in the wild garden of the ruined Capsule Compound. If they had failed…they had left very little room with the N-clippers to try again.

'The moment of knowing,' he said.

She brought up the last programmed jump – the jump home - and her hand shook over the button.

Vegeta closed his hand over hers and together they pressed it.

Outside the dome, darkness fell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: As well as reviews I also like PMs, wink wink, nudge, nudge. Sorry, but I don't know how long it may be for the next chapter! Should be less than a week though.


	39. After Farewell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Despite the name, this is not the last chapter.

The light came up on the overcast morning, high above the ruined Capsule Compound…

Bulma twisted her head this way and that and then screamed - a scream of pure joy! A hundred yards or so away in the sky hung the black time machine. Vegeta guided their craft down into the garden while Trunks followed suit, both machines settling in the long grass at the same moment. Bulma popped the dome while they were still landing, and as soon as they touched down, scrambled over the dashboard, preparing to leap to the ground.

'What do you think you're doing, fool!' said Vegeta, catching her around the waist before she plunged ten feet, and lowered them both down safely. Bulma took off, hardly noticing – her eyes were on the opening hatch on the other machine and the purple haired man climbing out.

'Trunks!' She had him in her arms the moment his feet hit the ground. 'Trunks! At last!' He was…he was taller? How did he get taller? And bigger!

'Mom!' he said, sounding happy but nervous.

She looked up at him. He was older! For a second she panicked, wondering if this wasn't the right Trunks after all, but he wasn't as old as the Time Patroller. Just a little older, and taller and bulkier. Of course, the hyperbolic time chamber, and training with his father must mean that perhaps years had passed for him!

'You got so big!' she said, grinning and leaking tears of relief at the same time. He looked back at her face, alarmed.

'Mom, what happened? When am I? And what's _he_ doing here?'

Bulma looked over her shoulder and saw Vegeta standing back, arms folded, stoic expression in place.

'Oh, you mean your Dad?'

'Mom, I don't think I'm supposed to be here, wherever here is!' He looked truly scared now, and he clutched the note she'd written in his hand. 'I have to get home to my mother; I left her all alone when I borrowed this time machine. I've got to get back to her.'

'Stole you mean,' growled Vegeta. 'That's _my_ machine.'

Trunks froze in place, his body tensing under Bulma's hands.

'It's okay,' she said. 'He's okay. And it's really me.'

'But how?' he said. He frowned down at her. 'How can it be, Mom? How'd you get so young looking?'

Bulma laughed. 'Oh Trunks! I've got so much to tell you!'

Trunks hugged her again, confusion and wonder plastered over his face. He had a new scar on his cheek, similar to the Time Patroller's but on the other side of his face, and it was pinker and fresher. 'It's really you? Did you come back in time and give me this?' He brandished the note again.

'We did!'

'I guess now it makes sense that it says "We changed the time…"' He looked up over her shoulder to Vegeta. Bulma turned too, and Trunks stepped forward, keeping his arm around her shoulders.

'So it was your time machine we took?'

Bulma went cold when she saw the granite expression on Vegeta's face.

'Yes.'

'I'm sorry about that. But I was meant to have it back before you knew it was gone, not three months late. Have you been waiting three months to get it back?'

'I have. It was a damn fool decision to steal a time machine, but I blame your Mother for it.'

'I could go back in time three months to give you the machine back then,' he said.

'No!' shouted Vegeta and Bulma in unison.

Trunks laughed nervously. 'I can see there's a long story behind this. How unreal it is that the time traveller was you Father? I just left you a few minutes ago in the past, and I thought it would be the last time I would ever see you.'

As he led them closer to Vegeta, Vegeta turned his face away. Bulma's joy moved aside a little to let the worm of heartbreak in. She could tell that Vegeta was freaking out. Her heart started pounding, realising that the way he was acting she'd be lucky to have minutes left with him before he was gone forever.

'Are you staying?' asked Trunks, his anxious tone betraying a tragic note of hope. 'Staying long I mean?'

'No.'

'Stay a little while,' she said.

He took a deep breath and darted a swift look at her. 'No. Best if I go now.'

_No!_

Vegeta pulled the remote for the machine out of his pocket, pressed the button to open the hatch, and walked past them, eyes to the ground. Bulma couldn't catch her breath. After all that had happened he was just going to walk away without a word? He paused though, as Trunks and Bulma turned to watch him.

'If I treated you poorly boy, I'm sorry for it. I'm proud of you. I always was. Take care of your Mother, and try not to think too badly of me.'

Trunks stared in astonishment at his father. 'Sure.'

When Vegeta turned again her pain jumped to the surface, taking over.

'Vegeta, wait!'

She ran to him and he stopped again. She could see his fists clenched tightly. He didn't turn around, so she ran around him, but he still stared at the ground, breathing hard as if he'd been sprinting from her instead of walking. God, he wasn't making this easy! And this wasn't how she had imagined it would be as she lay in bed last night - not with Trunks looking on, not with this stonewalled expression on Vegeta's face, but she had made her mind up to do it. It was her last chance to ever say the words to him after all.

'Vegeta,' she said. Her voice was tiny and breathy – this was much harder to say than she had imagined! 'I love you.'

He flinched as if she'd hit him. Bulma felt a deep, hot blush coming on. She had already decided that it didn't matter what he thought about what she'd said, she wasn't looking for a response, but still, she'd just laid her heart bare between them. 'I know it doesn't matter,' she went on. 'But I just wanted to say it to you at least once.'

Vegeta made a gasping, choking sound and he finally looked up at her. 'What did I tell you Woman?' he said, in a voice that was low and rough.

'I don't know,' she said miserably. 'Give me a clue!'

'You're getting overly attached.'

Bulma laughed at the absurdity of the understatement. 'That warning came far too late. And don't you remember what I told you?'

His grim expression shifted slightly, one side of his mouth lifting in a reluctant smile. 'That it was worth it.'

'It was.'

'I hope you're right about that.' Suddenly he pulled her against him, head still bowed, and she held him as tight as she could. She would have held him forever. She'd have never let him go, but he pulled away after only a few seconds and put one hand between them, flat against her belly and hidden from Trunks. 'I'm sorry if I don't…' he whispered, and she had a feeling he wasn't only speaking to her. And then he was pulling away from her, pulling out of her grasp.

He jumped directly from her, over her head and into the cockpit of the time machine. Ow! Was this the fast Band-aid method of break up? Do it fast so that the pain is over quickly rather than drawing it out all day?

'Vegeta, wait!' came a shout from near the entrance to the lab. Korin, Oolong and Sixteen were rushing over, Korin in the lead. 'Were you just planning on slipping away from us boy? Some gratitude you're showing!'

'You have my gratitude Korin,' he replied. 'Eternally.'

'Oh,' said Korin as he caught up to Bulma. 'Good!'

'Goodbye, Vegeta,' said Sixteen. 'It was good getting to know you, my friend.'

'This is enough sentimentalism!' growled Vegeta. 'I'm leaving before the pig tells me that he can't live without me!'

'Actually, I think I'll sleep a little easier knowing you're not around, Vegeta!' scoffed Oolong as the hatch lowered over Vegeta. 'Yeah,' he went on, as the plexiglass safely sealed Vegeta from hearing, 'Piss off and save the day already.'

'What?' said Bulma, looking down at Oolong. 'What do you mean?'

'Oh,' said Oolong. 'Didn't he tell you what that time patrol guy said? He's got to go back to where he came from to fix the multiverse or something. Makes no sense to me.'

She looked back to Vegeta as the hoverjets wound up, lifting the machine up and away. Why hadn't Vegeta said anything? And then her eyes widened as she realised that he had, she just hadn't taken him seriously.

_He didn't just give me a way home; he gave me a mission._

_I have a chance to undo a lot of the damage I did. More than I ever knew I had done._

_I can't refuse._

Last night when he'd said _There is no other choice_ she'd thought he meant that the other family was the only valid choice.

And Sixteen's strange statement… _I do not envy you. Your hand was forced_ suddenly made sense.

He'd been forced into doing something...She thought he'd been exaggerating when he'd said the guilt of a thousand universes rested on him. What had he done? He'd been so happy after the fight with Goku, and kissed her like he meant it, kissed her like he was hers, cried out her name with so much love...and then was so distraught after visit from Time Patrol. Surely he hadn't decided to stay with her, but then found he had to leave anyway?

The time machine disappeared.

She gave a moan and toppled over backwards, suddenly seeing how close she'd been to having it all, only for fate to snatch one half of her heart away again. What had Kibito Kai said in her dream? _I couldn't let you have both of them._

Trunks caught her as she stumbled backwards.

'Mom, are you all right?' he said.

She turned in his arms and hugged him back. The other half of her heart – she would never let _this_ one go again. He was so tall now his chin rested on top of her head where she leant it against his shoulder. Where had he gotten this height from? Not from her, and certainly not from his father!

'Not really. But I will be.' Oh no, she was crying again! Vegeta had ruined another happy moment by turning her heart over again.

'Mom, what is it? What's wrong?'

She was worrying him. She couldn't have that.

'Nothing, nothing for you to worry about!' she said, covering her face with her hand, brushing the tears away, catching her breath. Later - she'd deal with this revelation _later_. She looked up at him and smiled, and it was a real smile. His face, a little older and a little harder, looked more like Vegeta's than ever. She reached up and stroked his thick lavender hair. 'I'm just so glad to have gotten you back!'

The other three gathered around Trunks, greeting him. Sixteen introduced himself and Trunks regarded him nervously.

'It's a real surprise to see you here Sixteen. I didn't even think you existed in this timeline.'

'Vegeta activated me three months ago. I have spent much of the last month helping your mother and Vegeta guard the time machine they were building.'

'Guarding? From Androids 17 and 18?'

'No' said Bulma, Sixteen and Korin all at once. Trunks looked from one face to another in confusion.

'From the Eastern Supreme Kai of the universe,' said Sixteen in his blunt way.

'The who?'

'One of the four ultimate deities of the universe,' said Korin. 'Your father has a knack for making enemies.'

'Korin, that's not fair!' Bulma complained.

'Okay, I guess we've all been working in opposition to the Kai to get you back, even if we haven't been fighting them like Vegeta and Sixteen and Eighteen.'

Trunks frowned in confusion at that. 'Eighteen? Surely you don't mean _Android_ 18?'

Well, she'd promised Eighteen she wouldn't wait long before telling him, and it may as well be now.

'That's right,' she said. 'Eighteen has been helping us too.'

Trunks looked at her like she'd just suggested they have dinner on the moon.

'Yeah, right!'

'It is true,' said Sixteen. 'Eighteen and Seventeen have renounced their old ways. Eighteen has been helping your mother.'

Trunks dropped his arm from her and stepped away like she was poisonous.

'Is that true Korin?'

'It's true boy. And while I wouldn't say she'd got a civil tongue or a delightful personality, she's been useful, and her brother's been keeping a low profile.'

Trunks looked at her with betrayal in his eyes. 'Mom, how _could_ you?!'

'How could I? Because we needed her! My life, _your_ life depended on her.'

'She is our friend,' added Sixteen.

'Friend? _Friends_ with the monster that killed Gohan! Killed so many! I don't believe it! How can you _possibly_ be friends with a thing that is _pure evil?'_

'I know it's hard to believe-'

'You're right - it's _unbelievable!_ I don't now how they tricked you, but I will _not_ be tricked!' he shouted.

'Trunks!' she shouted back. 'You've no idea what you're talking about!'

'Don't I? It's you that doesn't! How many times have I faced those robotic monstrosities down while they tried to murder me, or blow up buildings while people are cowering inside them?'

'Well she's not like that any more! She stood guard over me while I slept! She's not pure evil! Even Seventeen isn't!'

'Are you insane? I went away with a mission – to come back strong enough to kill the androids! And I'm going to!'

'No, you're not! And I am not _insane!_ Don't you speak that way to me!'

They glared at each other, until Trunks turned away with a shake of his head. 'I've no idea what happened here. I'm not going to just take your word for it, but you'd better tell me everything, Mom,' he said angrily.

'That goes without saying.'

Bulma smarted from their argument. This was no boy before her, like the shy teenager she'd sent away. He was a man with a mind of his own, and she suddenly resented the fact that she'd missed his growing up.

'Good idea, Trunks,' said Korin, breaking the tension. 'Come downstairs, I'll put the kettle on while we fill you in.'

'You can tell us what you were doing while you were gone,' said Oolong. 'And where you got four inches and forty pounds of muscle from.'

Trunks laughed, despite himself. As they headed back to the entrance to the lab they passed the other time machine.

'This is the one you built Mom? In _three_ months?' he said, his voice incredulous.

Bulma smiled with poorly suppressed pride. 'It's amazing what the proper motivation will do, as well as a grumpy Saiyan and a couple of dedicated friends to help with the catering!'

As they all continued onwards she paused to look back at the spot in the sky Vegeta had disappeared from.

'Thank you,' she whispered. She'd forgotten to tell him that in her determination to tell him the other thing. 'Thank you for helping me bring my son back.'

And then she screamed as the purple skinned, white haired, red tunic-ed figure of Kibito Kai popped into being a few yards in front of her. He held his hand up, whether in peace or in preparation to annihilate her she wasn't sure, and she turned and ran straight into Sixteen's bulky torso as he came to her rescue.

'Do not worry, Bulma, I am here!' shouted the android as he gathered handfuls of energy. Bulma heard the confusion of the others behind Sixteen, and Oolong's shrill squeal.

'PEACE SIXTEEN!' shouted the Kai as he deflected the blasts. Sixteen growled and didn't relax his fighting stance as the Kai continued. 'I'm only here to ask a question, at this point!' he said, a narrow-eyed and angry look on his perfect features.

'Who are you?' said Trunks threateningly from Bulma's side.

'Someone not to be trifled with,' said the Kai. 'I know who _you_ are though. I see you were successful in bringing home your son, Bulma, but at what cost?'

'No cost!' she said. 'We were careful, and we spawned _no_ new universes.'

'Should I see this guy off, Mom?' said Trunks softly to her.

'Not yet…but be very careful.'

'That's impossible,' the Kai said. 'Only our machines can move through time without damage.'

'Because they have N-clippers?'

The Kai's face went blank with shock. 'How do you know about those?'

'We went equipped.'

The Kai stared at her for a very long moment digesting this. 'And Vegeta. Will he be returning?'

'No,' she said flatly. 'He's gone to fix things. He's gone home.'

The Kai looked distinctly relieved, although he said 'That's too bad. We won't be able to deploy plan C.'

'Are you going to leave us alone now?' she said, bitterness making the words knife-sharp. 'I got my son back. I'm not going to time travel any more, just like I said. Or you still determined to murder or lobotomise me?'

Besides her Trunks gasped and then powered up, the air sucking into to him and then blasting out again in a hot chi laden wave. The Kai eyed him nervously and then looked back at Bulma, his frown easing into an uncomfortable expression of regret.

'No, Bulma. I'll take you at your word. It always pained me to force those choices on you. Just one thing though…' He walked around them, making a wide circle to where the time machine stood. 'You say this machine has an N-clipper? I will need to take this with me.'

Sixteen began to rush forward as the Kai lifted his hand to the machine's leg.

'No, Sixteen!' Bulma shouted. 'Let him take it!' It hurt to let go of the thing she had obsessed slavishly over for three months, and spent all her intellectual energies of the last four years on, but it had served it's purpose. More than that, it hurt because it was her last way back to Vegeta. Not that she would have taken it, but without the time machine the door to that possibility was swinging shut forever.

'Take it, Kai. You have my word.'

'Thank you, Bulma,' said the Kai sadly. 'You are a good woman. And we'll be checking in.'

The Kai was gone as jarringly as he had arrived, machine and all.

'That, my boy,' said Korin, 'was a Supreme Kai of the universe. And only the dogged defiance of your mother and Vegeta has brought you back against the will of him and his ilk.'

* * *

Trunks was surprised to find the house buried off the tunnel to the lab. Korin made tea as he'd suggested, and Bulma sat sipping it with trembling hands as she filed in the last three months in broad strokes for Trunks.

'Short story – you never came back from your first trip into the past. Vegeta turned up wondering where his time machine was, and wasn't very pleased when he found out we'd nicked it. And as he was stuck and I was a screaming wreck we decided to continue building my time machine to come save you and get his time machine back.'

'You saved me? How?'

'Very subtly.'

'Why did I need to be saved?'

'Because you gave Goku expired heart virus antidote. Here's the slightly longer tale…'

She explained as best she could who this Vegeta was and what he had been here to do, which brought gasps of shock from Trunks and also from Oolong, who was hearing this for the first time too, and then the major events of the last three months. She left out everything to do with losing her heart all over again to Vegeta and having him break it again by leaving, and that she was pregnant.

She found she had no control over her face as her words sparked this or that memory of terror, laughter or passion. She shook, laughed and leaked tears at various points until Trunks was looking at her with concern. It also took a long time to get through it all, with Korin and Oolong adding their various viewpoints and observations. Sixteen, who stood silently next to the table with his hair brushing the ceiling said nothing, but smiled in encouragement at her.

Trunks was incredulous to say the least. The hardest thing for him to swallow for him was the androids' capitulation, although he did mutter that it was no surprise that they saw the light at pain of death offered by Vegeta. He didn't think that 7.5% power was low enough for Seventeen, and he said that if Eighteen came back he'd tear her head off.

'You can't do that Trunks, I promised her I wouldn't let you kill her!'

'You don't need to keep your word to her - she's a killer. The only reason she's done what she's done is because she was scared of Vegeta. And now she's scared of me. And she should be!'

'It might be the reason she changed to begin with but it doesn't matter! She's not the one-sided fiend we thought her. I'm not about to start a knitting circle with her, but she's shown me enough to know that she deserves a second chance at her life.'

'Some _things_ don't deserve a second chance.'

'Trunks, who do you think has caused more death and destruction in their lives, Eighteen or Vegeta?'

Trunks opened his mouth to reply and stopped, his eyes tracking away into thought.

'That's right, Trunks. Did your father deserve a second chance at life? His sins make Eighteen's look like a kiddie's temper tantrums.'

Trunks argued on the point no more. Korin gave Bulma a few dirty looks also, and she realised that he'd just figured out that the androids hadn't been reprogrammed after all.

The other thing Trunks found difficult to swallow, but in a far more pleasant way, was that Vegeta had only wanted to get back to his family. Bulma wondered if she should mention Trunks's phantom sister Bra, but Korin did it for her.

'It's too much to hope for!' said Trunks. 'You say that this Vegeta came from the future I made when I went back?'

'No. But similar. All the same major events happened.'

Trunks shook his head. 'I spent two years living with the man, I would not have believed it. Honestly, Mom, I was finding it hard to see what you saw in him. When I first met him I thought he was hard and cold, but I had faith that there was something more to him. After fighting androids with him and the creature Cell, and spending two years in the hyperbolic time chamber with him, the only thing I found more of was pride, angst, bitterness and bile. He's an amazing fighter…incredible stamina, determined like I've never seen, clever, manipulative…but he's wall-to-wall ego. I was beginning to think that there was no room left in his heart for anyone besides himself and his pride.

Korin muttered under his breath as he stomped around the kitchen, getting lunch started. Bulma glared at him and then turned back to Trunks as he continued.

'He could've been Earth's saviour at one point, but he blew it because he was goaded into letting our enemy increase their strength – past all possible means of overcoming him!' said Trunks. 'I wouldn't believe what you'd just told me if it hadn't been for the way my father reacted when I died.'

Korin and Oolong's interest was sparked by that. 'You died?' said Oolong. 'Does resurrection run in the family?'

'Dragonballs Oolong! Remember them?' Bulma teased.

'Yes, I was brought back by them. Incredible things,' said Trunks. 'Maybe I should have used them to wish our Dragonballs here back to life.'

'It wouldn't have worked,' said Bulma, thinking about what Vegeta had said about the Dragon's ignorance of other universes.

Over lunch and beyond Trunks recounted his adventures in the past. And even though Bulma already knew a lot of what happened, and even seen some of it for herself, hearing it from Trunks in richer detail was fascinating. His impressions of the Z-fighters, Goku falling ill during combat against Androids 19 and 20, and Vegeta's spectacular entrance as a Super Saiyan had them all interrupting him with questions. Bulma had to smile when Trunks related some of Vegeta's battleground taunts, but then she was as shocked as Korin and Oolong when Trunks told them how Vegeta had refused to save the other Bulma and the baby Trunks after Dr Gero shot down their hovercraft.

'I had to save them,' he said. 'He said he was sick to death about hearing about that infernal woman and her blasted child. He was that callous.'

Bulma's head swam, seeing the man with the icy eyes full of self-loathing who'd stood on the top step outside her mother's kitchen door, and the one who'd cried in the bathroom for what the mess he'd made of her life, and the one who'd told her he wished he could bring himself to kill her and their child and the planet she stood on. She was now sure he hadn't been kidding when he had said that, not if a similarly unevolved Vegeta had been willing to let them perish. He had truly wanted to be rid of her and the boy because they made him want to care. How could she have been falling in love with that man? And yet he'd become the one who loved his family so much he'd trekked through time for years and years to get back to them, who'd stroked her hair, had sworn to protect her…

'He's a complicated man,' she said, and paused to clear her throat of the tears that started to clog it. 'But he's a good man now.'

'"Good" is pushing it,' said Korin and Oolong snorted with laughter.

'I didn't say he wasn't abrasive,' she said.

'Or disrespectful,' said Korin.

'Or terrifying,' said Oolong.

'Or self-serving,' added Korin.

'Okay!' she snapped.

'I guess I can concede he's good,' said Korin, smiling at her slyly, 'as well as those flaws, and others.'

Trunks smiled at her too. 'Maybe you see things in him no-one else sees, Mom. Maybe you looked harder than anyone else.'

Bulma looked down at her empty plate. It was a horrible thought. Maybe she just didn't see Vegeta the way he truly was? Maybe she never had. After all, she had told him that she loved him today and he had just walked away. What would a clear-seeing person think of that?

It turned out that Piccolo had not driven Trunks off. Trunks had decided to leave the Son residence because Chichi had not been that thrilled at having a house guest with no fixed departure date, and also because she had made some very astute guesses as to his origins. He'd had to squirm and lie his way out of her questions. And so he had left. Piccolo had suggested that he train in the wilderness, which he did, and still met the other three to train some days.

'Piccolo said that I shouldn't let on to my father that I had been training with him and Goku, and I think that was probably wise. I think he would have taken that as some kind of allegiance to Goku over himself. It was our secret.'

He'd spend over a year living in the wilderness alone, making the effort to survive against the elements and find food part of his training, but breaking it up with trips to Korin's Tower for company and a good feed now and then.

Korin grinned. 'Did I take care of you, boy?'

'You sure did Korin! You're no different then than now.'

Of the time in the wilderness he said 'It was lonely, but I'm glad I did it. Later, when I went into the hyperbolic time chamber with my Father, I think I might have gone mad with loneliness if I hadn't learnt how to endure it.'

'Vegeta said that the hyperbolic time chamber was the closest thing to Hell on Earth,' said Bulma slowly.

Trunks nodded. 'He wasn't lying. And yet, much of the horror of it…seemed to emanate from him. I think a lot of what happens in there, you bring yourself.'

He had a great admiration for Goku, and his hero worship of Gohan had only grown.

'He was still only a kid! Goku put him up against a villain we had no hope of defeating, and he won!'

When he got to the part about his dying and Vegeta's failed bid to avenge him he smiled.

'When Yamcha told me about that, I knew that Father had changed. Some time during the whole ordeal he really did start to care about me. He wasn't cold all the way through, no matter how he treated me at the time.'

It was so sad to hear him say that, but he actually looked pleased about it. 'I saw the attack he launched on Cell from our time machine,' she said. 'He did care Trunks, he really did. I saw it in his face as we watched it unfold. If your father had lived in this universe, he would have loved you. I'm sure of it.'

Trunks grinned wider. 'He must have learned how to love.'

They showed Trunks round the lab and the hangar. He looked at it with new eyes. Not only was it much changed since he was last there, but it had been over three years for him since he'd been in there. Looking around the battle scarred hangar Bulma realised how tired she was. They'd spent hours travelling through the past, and the months of missed sleep were catching up to her.

While she stood there, like a nightmare recurring in the waking hours, Kibito Kai appeared on the edge of the hangar.

'No!' screamed Bulma in anger and despair.

Trunks was at her side in an instant, the heat of his chi surrounding her.

'What happened to leaving the poor woman alone?' barked Korin, striding forward and stamping his staff on the floor. 'Do the Kai not keep their word?'

'I'm sorry!' said the Kai.

'If you touch my Mom I'll kill you!" said Trunks.

'I'm not going to touch Bulma. Or you Trunks, or you Master Korin, or Olong or Sixteen.' He seemed to deflate. 'I've come to apologize.'

They all stood uneasy as the Kai floated to the floor of the hangar. He bowed to her.

'Bulma, can you ever forgive me?' he said, his face full of misery.

'I don't know,' she growled. 'What for? For trying to keep me from my son?'

The Kai shook his head. 'If Vegeta was here I'd apologise to him too, but we have no idea where he's gone. But, he's done something…When I came earlier, we hadn't had a chance to realise what had happened. After he left this place about half of the hundreds of thousands of universes that we knew about ceased to be.'

'Half?' Bulma said, baring her teeth at him. Perhaps Vegeta had not over stated his guilt after all. 'Bet you're glad you didn't kill us now.'

'Yes! Yes, so glad! I wonder why I didn't expect something like this? Didn't I say that it's hard to hate Vegeta because no matter what he's ruined, he'll turn around with some redeeming heroic act?'

Bulma glared at the Kai, feeling her face trembling with fury and sadness. 'Lucky for _all_ of us, that Vegeta is _so hard to kill_.'

'Bulma, I'm so sorry! All the Kai are!'

She started to cry. The gentle Kai who she wanted to trust and like and wanted to hate so much at the same time, was begging her for forgiveness. 'Don't be sorry, it's too late.'

'It's never to late for forgiveness. I can't believe it got to this point. You and I are meant to be friends. I don't know why I didn't listen to my heart when you fought back so hard - it was all about our desperation to corner Vegeta - we should never have been so ruthless towards you. And even Vegeta, given the chance...did good. I lost my friend and chief technologist Bulma out of this mess, as well as some of our time patrollers.'

'We were _friends?_ '

'We were,' he said sadly. 'I'm going to miss having a Bulma and a Trunks on the Planet of the Kai. If you or you son ever want a job with unique travel opportunities, we'd be overjoyed to have you.'

'Is that a joke?'

'Unfortunately no. I understand if you never want to see me again, but if you ever change your mind, I will be checking in now and then.'

He bowed again to her. And then he disappeared.

* * *

After this visitation brought the mood down Oolong decided it was time to get back home, and they promised to go to his place for dinner the following night. Korin left them with the remainder of the food in the box and flew home. 'I'm going to miss that instant transmission trick Vegeta could do,' he said as he took off. 'Should have got him to teach me it.'

Trunks and Bulma spent the rest of the afternoon and evening talking, going backwards and forwards with each other's stories.

'I can't believe how much you've grown,' said Bulma at one point.

'I'm nearly twenty now I think,' he said.

She touched the scar on his cheek. 'How did you get that?'

'In the time chamber. I learnt the hard way not to surprise Vegeta in his sleep.'

'Oh! I'm sorry.'

'What for? You didn't do it.'

'I'm sorry that your father wasn't an ordinary kind of guy. That you could just meet and get along with.'

Trunks laughed. 'How boring would that be? He's not easy. He's borderline insane. But you were right; he is a great man. If he had been ordinary would you have got together? My extraordinary Mom?'

She shook her head with a smile.

Then he asked timidly 'What was it like for you having him living here? You didn't really say.'

She shrugged to buy time, not sure what she should tell him. Or wanted to tell him. 'It was weird at first. And he was quite different in some ways to how he had been, but it was fine. It turned out we got along pretty well still.'

'Are you going to miss him?'

Suddenly Bulma found her limit. She was exhausted, and if she had to talk any more about Vegeta she would lose it.

'Yes,' she said, standing up. 'I've been up for about twenty hours Trunks, I'm going to have to go to bed.'

'Sure. But where's my bed, Mom? It's not in here any more.'

'Oh. It's in my room.'

Trunks followed her into her bedroom, which had devolved from its typical messiness into a bomb-site over the months of time machine building. With a pang she realised Vegeta's clothes where still piled at the foot of the trundle bed. She striped the bed hurriedly, holding back tears, and let Trunks carry the bed back out into the lounge to make it up with clean sheets. When she did her teeth in the bathroom she missed the presence by her side impatiently waiting his turn at the sink, and his bloodstained rags were still in the corner. The dragon radar nightlight still hung on the bed head. The ghost of Vegeta was everywhere.

Finally she was alone in her room with the door closed and she flopped down on the bed feeling more lonely than she had in fifteen years. When her head hit the pillow though something crumpled underneath it. She put her hand underneath it and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Wondering how on earth that had got there she turned the bedside lamp on again and felt her heart still at the sight of the odd handwriting on it. _For Bulma_ , it said simply. She was reminded of the note she left for herself in the past, but this wasn't from her. It could only have been left by Vegeta.

Holding her breath, she opened it.

* * *

While his Mom brushed her teeth Trunks wandered through the lab, not ready to sleep yet. It had been a very odd day. Stranger and happier than he had imagined it would be coming home. For a start, this place was apparently their home now. He went through into the hangar and tried to imagine Android 18 standing guard over his mother, Even the thought made him feel sick and angry. What was he going to do about that?

To his surprise Android Sixteen was standing like a sentinel in the hangar.

'What are you still doing here Android Sixteen? Don't you have a home to go to?'

'I do. I could go home to the house your mother gave us. Eighteen is there all alone. She will be lonely without Seventeen around.'

'And where is he?' asked Trunks, his skin crawling at the mention of the other android. If there was anything he hated more than Android 18 it was Android 17.

'I am not sure. He is travelling. A motorcycle trip I believe. He and Eighteen have fallen out. He doesn't approve of our new friends.'

'Ha!' said Trunks. At least one other person saw the madness in this arrangement, even if it was the most evil of them all.

'I am reluctant to go there yet though. I fear your mother may still be in some danger. And she is upset. I would not leave her yet.'

'It's okay. I'm here for her now,' said Trunks. Sixteen merely smiled. 'What makes you think she's upset?' he asked, although he had an inkling why. The way his father had hugged her before he left, and their quiet words, the way her eyes shone when they'd spoken about him...he hadn't missed it. He almost couldn't _believe_ it, but he hadn't missed it. Sixteen's next words only confirmed it.

'Vegeta will leave a hole now he is gone. They have been inseparable.'

Trunks sighed. 'And what about you? You're really attached to my Mom, aren't you?'

'She is one of my first friends. She is kind. She fixed Seventeen and saved his life, even when he was her enemy.' He held up a hand, which Trunks now saw was mangled and wrapped in a cloth. 'She will fix me also and remove the bomb from inside me.'

In the quiet that followed this statement they heard the distant sound of Bulma's scream. Hair standing on end with fear, Trunks tore back through the lab, Sixteen on his heels, and into the house, hearing, as he got closer, the words in the wailing.

'No! Vegeta, no!'

He pushed open the door of her bedroom, almost pushing it through the wall in his haste, noticing from the blaze of gold around him that he had unconsciously powered up. His mother was curled on the bed, looking tiny and broken, and there was no-one else in the room.

'Mom, what's wrong?' he cried, looking for any wound or other reason for the hysterical wail she was making. The sound terrified him. He'd never heard his mother cry like this before, not even when Gohan had died.

'He's gone, he's gone!' is all she could say.

'I know,' he said, looking to Sixteen in confusion. Had she lost her mind over it?

He sat on the bed and tried to put his arms around her, but she didn't react, as if he wasn't there at all.

'Mom,' he said, getting upset himself. 'Please stop!' He hauled her up against him but she was limp as a rag roll. That's when he saw the letter in her hand. He pulled it out of her grasp, reading first in confusion and then dawning horror.

_Bulma_

_I've been given my way back home. This is not the happy moment for me that it would been if it had come a few months, even a few weeks earlier. Please believe me when I say I don't want to leave you like this. Before Trunks came with the co-ordinates I had already decided not to. As the Earth saying goes, ignorance is bliss. Truth is pain._

_I found out yesterday morning that I had caused even more grievous damage than I thought. The Time Patroller is my own son. I have torn my family apart, and turned my son and wife into exiles, unable to get home themselves, and my daughter into an orphan. And you can thank me and my deeds for the existence of Time Patrol and the Kai's crack down on time travel. It was all the inadvertent result of my selfish actions. I can hardly raise my head for shame of what I've done. The Kai have wanted my blood for years. It might have been better if they had caught me._

_I must return home to prevent the cascade of events that followed my leaving. My son and wife did their own swathe of damage when they decided to try and find me. I can stop that before it happens._

_Then I must do something, if I can, about my own mess._

_And then, although I hardly know yet how, or even if it is possible, I will return to you. I couldn't tell you this before I left. I didn't want to give you hope for something that may never happen. I would spare us both the pain of making a promise I couldn't keep. So I wrote it here, and now you know…if you're reading this I have failed._

'Oh no, Mom!'. He looked down at her, her face distorted and pale and gasping, sunk deep in grief, perhaps past hearing him. He was beginning to appreciate the reason for it. He hurriedly read the rest of the letter, his own face crumpling as it got worse.

_If I didn't return within minutes of our safe return with your Trunks, I left you this note to find, so at least you would know I tried. I'm sorry fate would have you raise another child without me. Sorry we were fools enough to let this happen. If it's a girl, she will be beautiful, and you know what to name her already. If it's a boy, indulge me this time. No silly Earthling names for this son. Under no circumstance are you to call him Boxer. If you won't name him after me, name him for the greatest Saiyan warrior I know – Kakarott._

_I didn't choose her over you. I choose you both. I choose you all._

_Your ever-loving mate_

_Vegeta._

'No! Oh god Mom, what did he do?'

He pulled her up into his lap and rocked her like a baby while she wept.

'He didn't come home,' she said after a while, the words hard to make out amongst the tears. The tragedy he saw before him was making him cry himself now. His poor mother…his poor father.

'I know. But I did. I came home. You're not alone Mom.' His words seemed like pathetically small comfort. His father was dead, or as good as, for the second time in his mother's life, and she loved him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I repeat, not the last chapter.
> 
> If you've got something to say my dear, write me a review or leave me a PM.


	40. Lost in Space

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: this is not the last chapter either.

'That's enough sentimentalism,' Vegeta said. He hit the hatch close button, missing it in his haste and having to try again. 'I'm leaving before the pig tells me that he can't live without me!' he said, hardly knowing what he was saying. He was shaking with the effort of walking away, and now he had to get out of here before he crumbled. If he'd stayed a few minutes longer he would have stayed hours longer, the rest of the day, the next day…there was no particular deadline to meet on this endeavour. He could stay a year or years before he went, obsessively guarding the time machine from attack from the Kai, but then when would he leave? What day would it be easier to leave her on than this one? No day. And what if the Kai did manage to destroy both machines? Then he would have failed everyone.

He piloted the machine up into the air, still not sure where to go first. He needed to think still! His mind was a mess. He was exhausted.

He tracked back through his previous jumps, selecting a universe that he'd come to think of as his 'thinking place', and set the machine to go there, not bothering to change the time or date.

As his hand hovered over the jump button his resolve not to look back fell apart. He leaned over the dashboard, looking down at the little figures below. Her face was a pale oval upturned to him, her blue hair fluttering in the breeze. She was surrounded by her friends and her son. If he never made it back at least she wouldn't be alone.

'Gods, please let me come back!' he prayed aloud. He wasn't sure who he was praying to. The only Gods he knew existed wanted to kill him.

The sky slipped to black, and this time the lights didn't come back on. The machine hung in the utter blackness of nothing. The only light came from backlit dials and the monitors on the dashboard. This was a universe consumed by Buu.

Vegeta had a moment of claustrophobia and panic like he always did whenever he came here, before adjusting to the sudden weightlessness and the fact that the only thing that existed here was the time machine and himself trapped inside it's tiny space. This time though, the feeling of being trapped didn't fade. His lungs felt tight, his throat squeezed closed like he was being strangled. He took a deep breath and let it out again, but it caught on the way out, shaking his body with convulsions.

Oh shit. He was either dying or crying. He bowed his head to the dashboard, floating out of the seat, doubling over from the suffocating ache in his chest, pulling in another breath and letting it out with similar results. The anger and self-pity and regret that he'd been sitting on for the last day tore its way back out of him. It must be crying, he decided, as his eyes filled with tears, though it didn't feel that different to when Kakarott had smashed his ribs and he'd been choking to death on his own blood. At least in this place, there was no-one to see him weep.

After some time he came to himself once more, feeling calmer. This place was a refuge, a place where the passing of time didn't matter because nothing happened here. He could stay until he got hungry or thirsty, and he could sleep here undisturbed, which he intended to do now. He had barely slept a moment the night before, twisted with emotion and trying to think his way out of the trap he felt himself in. He settled himself back against the chair back, crossing his legs and arms like he used to in the Saiyan space pods he'd spent so much of his youth in.

Still, sleep didn't come quickly.

'I've got all day,' he told his brain. 'Eventually you will tire and we will sleep.'

He tried meditating, concentrating on only the physical sensations, but his attempt to calm his mind unravelled when he tried a passionless review all the events that had happened since he last slept. The spirit of objective distance eluded him.

* * *

After his son had left him with his bombshell he'd been brought so low by anger and misery he could barely think. And having it all exposed like that in front of the eavesdroppers had him seeing red. Eighteen's judgemental scowls nearly sent him over the edge into violence, and he was terrified she would tell Bulma all she'd heard. He didn't know why, but he didn't want Bulma to know what Trunks had said until he knew how and what he was going to tell her.

At lunchtime she suggested that she could have the time machine ready to go by evening and he panicked and jumped down her throat, yelling 'No!' Quite rightly she wanted to know why. It was because he wasn't ready, didn't know what to do or say yet, and wasn't ready to resign himself to the plan as he'd been handed it, that was why! But he told her it was so they could sleep, and because she had more work to do. Which was true.

He chased Korin and Oolong away, and the insolent Eighteen who was playing at being the Woman's best friend all of a sudden. Then he told Bulma only what she needed to know to finish the machine. He wasn't sure whether to tell her about the co-ordinates, but she saw them she figured it out herself, and took the news on the chin. She made him feel even worse with her calm acceptance that he was leaving.

He watched her working through the afternoon, watched her hold on to her nerves and her unhappiness, and finish the time machine anyway. He was so proud of her. She was sealing her own fate with that thing, but they both had no choice but to keep trudging onwards to their destinies.

But Vegeta was still desperate to slip the leash on that destiny. She may be a better person than he for calmly accepting the hand she was dealt, but the more Vegeta saw of her acceptance the more he wanted for her. For himself he wanted the clean and happy heart he'd had when he'd lain down with her under the time machine.

His mind raced like a lab rat in a maze looking for a way he could reunite his family _and_ not leave this Bulma. And better yet, undo some of the crushing guilt he felt for having broken so much. He was like Buu, but the opposite – creating universes compulsively rather than consuming them – a monster. Maybe once upon a time he wouldn't have minded that. Maybe even have been proud of it, but not now. Now there was just the shame of having thought he was a better man and _still_ being stupid and selfish enough to fuck up creation beyond all recognition.

As they made their plans and readied themselves for bed he was almost frantic, no closer to finding a better solution than the one Trunks had given him. When she reached for him over the edge of the sofa, he grasped her hand like a drowning man. She was a life raft in a stormy sea, and he would cling to that haven even for the last few hours he had her.

_'Get a room already!'_

When Eighteen made that crass comment he was not far off going over there and punching his fist through her stomach, promise or no promise. The only thing that held him back was knowing that she was 'protecting' the Woman, and for her part the Woman seemed to somewhat _like_ Eighteen now. A pillow had been sacrificed to his anger though, covering half the hangar in feathers.

The Woman suggested going to the house to get away from Eighteen, and he agreed with relief, only to fumble once the bedroom door was closed. He still didn't know what to do, or tell her, and then he just gave in to his impulse to cling to her, let his body show her what his heart couldn't…Oh, bad move! She freaked out and threw the fact that he was returning to his mate in his face. And she was right – if he couldn't figure out a better plan then that's exactly what would happen tomorrow, which would make this night feel like...what?

' _You picked her over me!'_

When she shouted that out he knew he was hurting her so much – everything he did seemed to make things worse.

He didn't sleep that night while he listened to her crying. He lay silent, desperately turning over everything he knew about time travel in his mind. Each route he took in his mind led to a dead end – either an impossible time loop, or with him failing one universe or the other. Finally, at five in the morning he concluded that there was only one possible way to expunge his guilt and do right by both families. It was not going to be painless, and he was by no means certain it could be pulled off. He watched her breathing by the glow of the dragon radar and wondered how to tell her that he _might_ be back. Right now she accepted that he wasn't coming back. If he told her he'd be back and he never made it…would it be worse? But he couldn't bear the thought that she'd always think she'd been second best. He'd said he cared for her as much as his mate. He'd meant it.

In the end he settled on writing a note. If he succeeded he'd be back before she could find it. If he didn't then at least she'd know he had tried. He took his PDA from the draw of the bedside table where he had been keeping it, and found some paper and a pen in there too. By the light of the PDA he wrote her name and then sweated over what else to say. He started with the confession that he had decided to stay with her until Trunks came. Then he outlined the why of his going, and then what he hoped to achieve. When he got to his intention to return he realised the cruel hook contained in this letter.

'Please let her not have to read this!' he prayed.

… _if you're reading this I have failed._

At this point he paused for a long time, locked in place, trying not to imagine her reading this. What could he say next? How could he possibly put his regret into words and have them do justice? Eventually she jumped and rolled over in her sleep, muttering Trunks's name. He was afraid she would wake soon, so he had just written it as simply and briefly as he could, then instructions about the child's name. He thought it was likely it would be a girl, a blue-haired, blue-eyed girl just like Bra, and so she should have that name. On the off chance it was a boy, he would have liked his name to live on with him, having missed that chance with Trunks, but he worried that she would not stand the daily reminder of him that naming the child Vegeta would bring. But perhaps she would not object to her friend's Saiyan name, and a little bit of Saiyan culture would live on. And he himself would not be there to have to tolerate calling his son by his rival's name. He was under no illusions though – the Woman would do as she damn well pleased in this.

Lastly he refuted her accusation. He did _not_ pick one Bulma above the other!

He signed it 'Your ever-loving mate Vegeta,' because she _was_ his mate, as much as any Bulma.

He folded the letter and set it on the bedside table, then lay back against the wall, waiting for her to awake. He fell into a doze, strange dreams flickering through his mind, the people in his life streaking by, morphing from one to the other. Frieza was snarling at him, angered and on the verge of ordering his execution, who became the Kai, who _did_ order the execution. Zarbon and Cui seized his arms and forced him to his knees - they were so much stronger than him! They pressed him down until his forehead touched the cold stone of Freiza's throne room floor. Trunks drew his sword, ready to behead him.

'I don't want to do this Father! But there's no other choice!'

Vegeta screamed and howled against his fate, twisting his head to the side to see Trunks. Frieza was at his back, a hand on Trunks's shoulder, and Trunks was pale and wide eyed with horror.

'Make sure the child watches,' Freiza purred.

He turned his face the other way and moaned. A baby, no more than a year old, blue-haired and blue-eyed, sat on the dais of Frieza's throne and stared back at him, too scared to even cry.

'No!' cried Kibito Kai. 'I didn't mean for this to happen!'

He felt the wind of the blade on the back of his neck and jerked awake in the dark, feeling jelly-limbed with relief that the horrific mixture of past and present and future had just been a dream. He sensed that the Woman was also awake; he could feel her weak Chi surging strongly - strong for her anyway. She turned on the bedside lamp and got out of bed faster than he'd ever see her manage it, gathering clothes and then waiting for him at the door with her back to him. Her scorn was palpable. Woozily he got up, gathered his own clothes and the PDA, then slipped the letter under her pillow where she would certainly find it when she went to bed, but not before.

In the shower he struggled to rise above his misery, feeling nauseas from lack of sleep and uneasiness about what lay ahead. The Woman interrupted his slow thoughts to point out that he had no footwear. What did that matter? He'd go barefoot if he had to. But then she dug out the white boots. As he put those old familiar things on, he was literally stepping back into the boots of the cold hearted warrior he'd once been, and he wished to be that person again, just for one day. That man would not have acknowledged the grip a female and her offspring had on him. That man could walk away and not be broken by the act. He picked up a pair of gloves as well for good measure, putting the pristine white barrier between him and the world. Then he destroyed Cell larvae, just in case he never made it back.

Throughout breakfast he was irritable as hell, and hardly did justice to the food that Korin laid out. Bulma was being calm and reflective, and that just pissed him off more. When she followed him up to the cockpit he got even angrier as he realised that she was going to insist on riding in the cockpit _with_ him. He'd thought she was going to travel below in her ridiculous haemorrhoid-pod, but now he was going to be stuck cheek-by-jowl with her in a tiny space for hours. Perfect! She was not making this any easier on him.

Despite his self-pitying anger he started to enjoy their spying mission on Trunks. Watching the scene with Frieza again with Bulma brought a fresh appreciation to the scene. Her squeamishness as Trunks became a blooded warrior was entertaining. How she could have raised him and not realised what he was capable of he'd never know. Perhaps it was the same way she had fallen for _him?_

It was good to see Frieza dispatched so easily by Trunks again. The shade of his dream that morning was put to bed once more. It galled him how Frieza could still appear in his dreams after all these years, making him feel as helpless as he ever had, the fear and loathing he felt towards the tyrant unabated by the years or his own superior strength. He wondered if he'd ever be free of that ghost. He had cracked once during the years of time travelling, and come back to this scene to kill Frieza himself – with his bare hands. It had not ended the nightmares, but seeing Freiza slain once more always gave him a smug sense of satisfaction.

Trunks absconding to Kakarott's house, not following the familiar course of events, and the resulting confrontation with Piccolo had together ended his good mood. But then rifling the house was amusing, if distasteful. The sun, their lunch, and the ease with which they had pulled off two of their tasks relaxed him, almost making him forget what was coming, until she came poking with that question.

'What did you mean about Sixteen passing judgements on you?'

'I don't know what you're talking about.'

'Last night. You said that, and Sixteen said your hand was forced. What did he mean?'

He still hadn't told her to her face what he was planning on doing, or why. It was in the letter, so one way or another she'd find out eventually. But in the meantime he _could not_ bring himself to talk about it. 'That is between him and me,' he said.

'Huh,' she said. 'What is the point of secrets now? In a few hours I'll never see you again.' The accusation in her voice was unmistakable. He turned away to stop her from seeing how it upset him, but he couldn't answer her. He would fall apart.

 _Just let us keep going and get to the end already!_ he wanted to shout. _No more questions and feelings!_

He took them to the day of the Cell Games, and was incredibly relieved to see that everyone was there. Trunks was alive, so the other Vegeta obviously hadn't killed him or let him die in the hyperbolic time chamber. He had been worried that Trunks's younger age would mean he wouldn't have been strong enough to make it, or that he would have enraged the other Vegeta even more. He took them to the end of the day, and was pleased to find that it matched his recollection to the minute. His satisfaction didn't last long though, as Trunks's death never failed to be horrific to him, but he forgot that the Woman with him might react even more strongly to seeing it. He cursed himself for a fool when she screamed and jumped up, and he pulled her down into his lap to get her under control. Of course, this was the first time she'd seen this, and it was her _actual_ son! Her distress made it even worse to watch than usual. He was suddenly anxious indeed to check that Trunks was revived by the dragon, and kept a secure grip on her as they watched his own foolish attack that nearly cost Gohan, and the Earth, the fight. _That_ moment never ceased to be a shameful one.

'You were amazing,' she said, her voice awed and admiring in a way that was completely at odds with how he felt about it.

'I was a fool, and a liability in battle that day. That was...Gohan and Goku's day.'

'You just called him Goku!'

He bit his lip at the slip up. Bah! Kakarott was too good a name for the buffoon anyway.

'So I did.'

At Kami's lookout he relaxed a little again as Trunks was wished back to life. He lingered longer than necessary, impressed, though he wouldn't have admitted it, by the dragon. And also eased by the scent of the Woman's hair in his nose and her soft backside pressed into his lap. He fielded her questions about the wishes and then she leaned herself back into him. The cold distance he'd been trying to nurture this morning had dissolved away entirely, just as he had feared would happen when she'd climbed into the cockpit with him. His hands twitched to stroke her. He looked up at her face, at it's expression of inspiration as she watched the dragon, and knew suddenly that she was dreaming of resurrecting her own timeline's dragon balls. And knowing her, she wouldn't stop at dreaming – she'd build a spaceship and hunt down New Namek, not realising that Dende wasn't there.

He looked away and steeled himself to break that last hope for her.

'Dende has been taken from your timeline. I would have left you with a guardian for the Earth, but he's been stolen from your universe.' Stolen by someone like me, he thought bitterly.

There was a long pause while she digested this. 'Thanks for trying, Vegeta,' she said eventually, sounding more resigned than shocked. As if, of course, the universe would not be that kind to her!

'I don't deserve your thanks, Woman.'

In the sky above Capsule Corp they hit the second kink in their plan – the Woman's scatterbrained-ness! He went along with her suggested remedy for the lost note, figuring it was the fastest way to fix things and be out of there, but after he had updated the co-ordinates for Trunks's return jump and put the new time and date in, he dropped to the ground below the time machine and she wasn't there to meet him. Wondering what had happened he pushed out his sense of Chi and found she was in the kitchen with her mother. He growled uneasily. If they had some sort of major encounter during this trip it could alter this timeline to the point of breaking it – another causality to add to his tally.

'Get out of there, Woman!'

The next minute he felt something that had him pull his Chi back in so tightly he was barely breathing. Oh, even better!

Slowly he rolled out from under the time machine to look up at the apex of the house's roof. His younger self stood on top, silhouetted by the deep blue sky, brooding. How would Bulma get back out of the kitchen without him seeing? A fight with himself would certainly break things. He decided to create a distraction.

Carefully, he attempted to disguise his Chi, and then raised it enough to instantly transmit himself into the trees on the other side of the golf course. Then he raised his Chi a little more. In the distance now, the figure on the roof raised his head to where he hid, and then took one giant step off the roof, landing outside the kitchen door. He took two steps towards Vegeta, and then stopped and turned, his face turned up to the kitchen door. With a sinking feeling Vegeta realised he'd just lead him closer to the Woman, and now he was being drawn in to her like a moth to a flame. Forgetting all about the mysterious energy in the woods, the young Vegeta slowly climbed the three steps to the kitchen door, and gods! Bulma opened the door right on him! He was too far away to hear the words they spoke to each other before he stepped in the door, but when she leapt out and down the steps he took off like a rocket, sweeping her up into the cockpit of the black time machine. He could feel the agitated Chi of the other Vegeta careening around inside the house, and not a second too soon she slammed the note on the dashboard and barked 'Go!'

Two seconds later they were hanging above his mountain.

He thought of it as his mountain anyway. He had never encountered a living soul in this place. The range was remote, and this mountain must be inaccessible by foot or road. He had discovered it in his early days living in the Capsule Compound, and used to come here to think or fume over things over the years. He would still occasionally come here. In almost every universe where the Earth remained, and in every time, this place was unchanged, and it gave him an odd sense of continuity in his exile. He wasn't sure why he had chosen to bring them here. It was a split second decision. He'd certainly never brought anyone here before.

'Are you okay, Woman?' he asked, shifting her so that he didn't leave her legs dangling.

'Yes,' she said, but she didn't sound it.

'I wasn't supposed to be back so soon,' he said, by way of apology. 'I didn't even go back inside the house till morning – I just sat on the roof all night.' And maybe that Vegeta would have too if he hadn't have interfered. 'An unpredictable difference.'

'I wonder what you – he – that _other_ one thinks just happened?'

He shook his head, anxiety gripping his innards like a python 'Who knows. I just hope there's no way they can find our time machine,' he said. 'The last thing we want is to get time-jacked again.'

'I don't know,' she said, sounding strange and distant. 'It wouldn't be so bad to get stuck here, don't you think? I saw my Mom. She made me hot chocolate…' She laughed, and he frowned at her, because it wasn't a happy sound at all. Her face was wet with tears. He might have known – she'd just been talking to her dead mother. 'Think I wouldn't mind staying here with Trunks.'

He wondered if this was perhaps the kinder thing to do – to let her and her son stay here, and damn the consequences? He could let her go like that maybe. She would be without him, but she'd have everyone else she wanted, and that was a better trade. He stared at her unhappy face as she watch some birds fly past, imagining letting her go here, in this timeline. He could do it. Maybe he should. But he couldn't stay with her. And if there was ever a time to tell her why, now was it.

'Woman…Bulma…I can't tell you what to do. But I can't stay here. When Trunks gave me the N-clippers and the co-ordinates, he didn't just give me a way home; he gave me a mission. I have a chance to undo a lot of the damage I did…more than I ever knew I had done.' His voice was hoarse. He had to clear his throat before going on. 'I can't refuse. The guilt of a thousand broken universes rests squarely on my shoulders.'

He pressed his face against the top her head, and he pulled her against him harder, waiting for her questions.

But she only snorted through her tears. 'Only a megalomaniac like you could make such a grandiose statement in seriousness. And you said Goku had an inflated sense of self-importance!'

He shook his head against her hair. She didn't seem to get it at all. She'd only seen him how he'd been with her; she only saw him as her partner, protector and lover, not truly as the man he'd been these last fifteen years – culpable and selfish, desperate and uncaring.

She sighed. 'I'm only kidding. Mostly kidding. Of course I'll go back where I came from. There's a lot to be done. I don't want to abandon all the people there, and they'll still need Trunks. And I'll see my parents and all my friends again some day. I can't deny them the chance to spend their eternity with their only daughter and grandson. And I've got to drag you up out of Hell when I die, remember?'

That absurd sentiment nearly brought him to tears. 'Woman, you _know_ I don't deserve it!' he said, angrily.

They wandered in that secret forest that looked like nowhere else he'd seen on Earth or any other planet. He was glad he had brought her here. She seemed to like it, though her thoughts were far away. It felt like someone was witnessing a little part of his soul never before revealed. If his plan accidentally caused his own end, at least one other person had seen it besides himself.

They went back to the Capsule Compound, found their time machine unmolested and the timeline blessedly still on-track, and very quickly their mission was over. Trunks made the jump that would take him home. Vegeta said a silent prayer for success as he closed his hand over hers and pressed the jump button. He honestly didn't know what he'd do if they lost her Trunks.

The sweet relief that flooded through him when both time machines appeared above the overgrown garden soured as it hit his stomach, because now…now came the rest of it.

He landed the machine and the Woman leapt out with no thought for life or limb, didn't thank him for saving her from another fractured ankle when he caught her and set her safely on the ground, and rushed over to Trunks to hug him, ecstatic.

'You got so big!' she said, oblivious to the dark look of alarm and suspicion Trunks had thrown at Vegeta over her head, and the way his power level shot up, ready to fight at a moments notice. Vegeta battled his instinct to do the same. The boy had learnt well at his side. It felt strange. If he made it back…this would be his son.

This was getting too much. He wanted to be away, before he lost his nerve, or did something foolish like tell the Woman he'd be back. He folded his arms over the tightness in his chest and scowled.

'Mom, what happened?' said the boy. 'When am I? And what's _he_ doing here?'

'Oh, you mean your Dad?'

Why'd she have to call him that? Trunks looked horrified.

'Mom, I don't think I'm supposed to be here, wherever here is! I have to get home to my mother; I left her all alone when I borrowed this time machine. I've got to get back to her.'

'Stole you mean,' growled Vegeta, reminded anew what caused this mess. 'That's _my_ machine.'

Trunks froze in place, his Chi gathering about him.

'It's okay,' Bulma said, neatly defusing the situation. 'He's okay. And it's really me.'

Vegeta watched them talking, the Woman's radiant happiness hard to take. Maybe he should go right now before she had time to feel bad? Maybe she would be so happy at getting Trunks back she wouldn't even feel sad that he left?

Trunks looked up over her shoulder to him, then approached, his arm defensively around his mother's shoulders.

'So it was your time machine we took?'

When the Woman looked at him Vegeta knew his last thought was incorrect.

'Yes,' he said, forcing himself to look away from her and focus on what Trunks was saying.

'I'm sorry about that. But I was meant to have it back before you knew it was gone, not three months late. Have you been waiting three months to get it back?'

'I have. It was a damn fool decision to steal a time machine, but I blame your Mother for it.'

'I could go back in time three months to give you the machine back then,' he said.

'No!' shouted Vegeta and Bulma in unison.

The boy laughed, letting his Chi and his tension slip away again. 'I can see there's a long story behind this. How unreal it is that the time traveller was you Father? I just left you a few minutes ago in the past, and I thought it would be the last time I ever saw you.' The boy's familiar features broke into a smile.

Vegeta panicked and looked away, taken by surprise by the feeling that hit him when Trunks smiled. Shit, he had to get away from here.

'Are you staying?' asked Trunks. 'Staying long I mean?'

'No.'

'Stay a little while,' the Woman said, and her voice...

What had he said to himself? With the discipline of a lifetime warrior he would walk away? Well, now was the time to fucking walk the walk.

He took a deep breath and before he could stop himself, glanced at her. He could have done without that image of her face all full of hopelessness. 'No. Best if I go now.'

Vegeta pulled the remote for the machine out of his pocket, pressed the button to open the hatch, and walked past them, eyes to the ground. He heard the voice of every drill sergeant and commanding officer he'd ever had yelling in his mind to keep going, don't look back. He paused though, remembering something he wanted to say to the boy. It might be the only time he got the chance after all

'If I treated you poorly boy, I'm sorry for it. I'm proud of you. I always was. Take care of your Mother, and try not to think too badly of me.'

'Sure.'

_Now keep moving soldier!_

'Vegeta, wait!'

He stopped, caught between the impulse to run back to her and another to leap straight into the time machine without turning back. She ran around him, putting her face in his. He kept his face turned away but he could still hear the pain in her voice when she whispered 'Vegeta, I love you.'

Why hadn't he expected that? Why hadn't he just keep going?

'I know it doesn't matter,' she went on. 'But I just wanted to say it to you at least once.'

He choked on the pain those words caused him. How did she always seem to know the exact thing to say to tear him apart? He wanted to tell her not to say such things. He remembered his earlier resolution to not to cause her more pain just by being here. He couldn't have failed more at that if he'd tried. He looked up at her, remembering a conversation in the dark one night. 'What did I tell you, Woman?'

'I don't know,' she said. 'Give me a clue!'

'You're getting overly attached.'

She laughed and he wondered how she could possibly find levity in what he said.

'Your warning came far too late,' she said. 'What did I tell you?'

He remembered her angry retort well, and he smiled grimly when he recognised that she was trying to let him off the hook. 'That it was worth it.'

'It was.'

'I hope you're right about that.'

 _Keep going_ , barked the voice in his head. _Before you back out altogether, go now!_

But damn it, he couldn't let her go just like that if this was the last time she would see him. He pulled her against him and she held him as tight as she could. And then he felt for the first time, the twitch of another Chi mingled with hers. The sense of shame that overtook him was brutal. He placed his hand between them, flat against her belly and whispered to it 'I'm sorry if I don't…' But then he could not say another word.

He pulled away from her and jumped straight into the cockpit.

'Vegeta, wait!' came a shout from near the entrance to the lab. Korin, Oolong and Sixteen were rushing over, Korin in the lead, and Vegeta cursed silently that he hadn't been a moment faster. 'Were you just planning on slipping away from us boy? Some gratitude you're showing!'

'You have my gratitude, Korin,' he replied. 'Eternally.' He did owe that cat rather a lot after all.

'Oh,' said Korin. 'Good!'

'Goodbye, Vegeta,' said the android. 'It was good getting to know you my friend.'

'This is enough sentimentalism!' he said, barely holding himself together. 'I'm leaving before the pig tells me that he can't live without me!'

* * *

He awoke in the darkness of nothing, after a dreamless sleep. About five hours he estimated, looking at that clock. Good enough. He was getting hungry and thirsty and the first step of his plan was quite clear now. He needed another N-clipper, and there was only one place he knew that he could get one of those.

What had Trunks said? He and his mother had left Bra two years after he'd taken the first time jump? He set the co-ordinates for his universe, two years after he left, and then added another two years, just in case. He didn't want to be early, and neither did he want to be too on-time. After all, he wasn't sure what kind of reception he'd receive.

He pressed the jump button, and an evening sky blossomed overhead, and underneath lay the Capsule Compound, just as he remembered it, just as it should be. The new house was there, the new R and D wing off the company HQ, the large and strengthened gravity room...

'Here goes nothing.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I know, I didn't reveal much more in this chapter, but once I got going on Vegeta's perspective I found that I had a lot more to for him to account for than I thought. More action and drama to come.
> 
> Thanks to all my regular reviewers, Gohan's Onna, Weibie, Adli, Tortoricin, Zekiev, Elleelle, Morisako83, all you guys (Smalsa, where'd you go?) I really appreciate every review I get, from every user and guest, but especially when I get to hear your thoughts on each chapter as it comes. If you never leave reviews, do a good deed for the day - review some poor fan fic author's story - it's like an unexpected birthday present or anonymous bunch of roses turned up at the door for them.


	41. Back to the Future

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Ha! Hi everyone, I've been rather busy! And as much as I regret it, you might have to wait a similar amount of time for the next chapter. However, this one ain't exactly short. It's the longest chapter I've ever posted, but I decided not to segment it because it didn't suit it, and also I have already told a bunch of people how many chapters are left (not many) and I didn't want to make a liar out of myself so soon. Maybe though I shouldn't make predictions. I've consistently misjudged how many words and chapters it would take to finish this story.

His hands felt sweaty as he guided the machine down into the garden. He couldn't sense any large energies nearby, but when he searched hard he found he could sense her. Good, it was probably better that she be alone. It was a dull day, and raining. The rain looked a little odd as it struck the cloaked machine after he closed it, but it was still essentially invisible. He felt the tickle of her soft energy below his feet, and hurried to the covered entrance of the underground lab. The biometric sensors let him in without a quibble, as if he'd been here yesterday.

It was disorientating going in the doors and down the clean stairs. He'd gotten so used to the destroyed entrance surrounded by sheets of broken polycrete and the dirt. He almost expected the dug-out tunnel to the house to be there halfway down the stairs. The whole lab was glittering clean and tidy compared to the one he'd just left. He followed the trail to the end of the series of labs, past a couple of startled looking lab techs to her office, and then realised that she wasn't in her office – she was in her father's.

He paused outside the door, a shiver passing over his body and leaving all his hair standing on end.

 _Just go in, idiot_ , he told himself.

He turned the handle and entered, holding his breath. For a second he was confused. Light was streaming in a window behind the desk – an impossibility for an underground office – and even more impossible was the glacial valley scene it showed. The high backed office chair and its occupant was facing away from him, but then slowly turned to see who'd come in.

The two froze as their eyes locked.

She, Bulma, his mate, his wife, sat before him, recognisable but undeniably transformed. Her mouth opened in shock and her hands flew to her face, covering it except for her eyes, then flew from that to her hair, covering that instead. Her hair, her beautiful blue hair had turned grey.

There was a sound of splintering wood and Vegeta staggered a little – he'd accidentally torn off the door handle he was still holding. He glanced at it before dropping it to the floor, and turned back to her, still lost for words.

 _She_ wasn't lost for long though, and stood up out of her chair. She looked shorter and shrunken, but apparently she was still hale enough - she slammed both hands onto the desk in from of her.

'What the HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?' she yelled, striding around the desk. The blue eyes behind the glasses still held their fire, and they crackled with fury as she came at him. A fully-fledged Bulma firestorm was not one of the reactions he had anticipated, and he leaned away from her as she poked him viciously in the chest. It didn't hurt him at all, but the intention behind it did.

'What – the – hell, Vegeta? What part of the plan we gave you was not clear? It is you, isn't it? The one Trunks gave the N-clippers to? What, are you stonewalling me Tough Guy? Say something for yourself!'

'Yes, it's me,' he hissed.

'Well why are you here?' she shouted. 'Go back! Get back in the time machine and go back four years, right now! Why have you left us here for two years? Trunks and I have been going out of our minds thinking that something had gone wrong or that you'd let us down!'

He struggled to find breath, or the words to say with it. 'It will be done don't worry, Woman! I'd never let you down. Not again, I promise.'

He recognised every wrinkle in her face. They had all been there last time he'd seen her, but now they were deeper and more crinkly. Her skin was thin and delicate looking, and was loose and sagging under her chin and eyes. It was still her underneath it all, but shrunk and sucked in by age. It hurt to see. It made him feel ashamed that he was still strong and unbowed by the years. Why did Saiyans have to live so much longer than humans?

'Then why are you here?' she wailed, and now misery bled in under the fury in her voice. 'I didn't want you to see me like this! I didn't want you to see what you were in for,' she said, stepping away from him.

'Foolish Woman, did I not say that your ageing made no difference to me?'

'Yes, but…' She shrugged.

He wrapped his arms around her, even more carefully than he used to, worried she would be as delicate as she looked. She resisted him for a second, and then hugged him back with all her might, though that might was not as great as it used to be. It was only a matter of hours ago he'd stood in this same pose with the younger Bulma. He couldn't decide now if they were the same person or not. It was so confusing.

'Vegeta,' she said, pulling back to look him in the face again. She had unshed tears in her eyes. 'You've _got_ to go back to that day. You've got to undo what Trunks and I did. _You've got to let me have more time with you!_ '

'I know' he replied. 'And it will be done. I need something from you first. I - I need your help.' And he couldn't believe he was asking her it.

'What is it?'

'I need another N-clipper.'

She looked at him levelly for a second, and in that second Vegeta felt his soul curl up under her scrutiny. It was as if she knew that the reason he needed it was not entirely innocent. 'Why?'

'A way to clean up at least half the mess I've made.'

'How?'

He told her his plan to taken the third N-clipper and travel to the first universe he made – the one where Cell had scrambled the software on the machine. He would secretly install the N-clipper into that time machine right before he left that timeline. From that point onwards he would no longer be splitting universes but diverting them.

'That's clever, Vegeta, but risky! Risky for you, and risky for me and Trunks here. What happens when that N-clipper turns up in your personal history again? When you installed the N-clipper in your own time machine there wasn't one already in it, was there?'

'No.'

'Next time, there will be. An event like that…you could catch yourself in a loop. And then you'll never get back to that day you left…we'll never see you again and we'll be stuck here. No, you _can't_ do that!'

Vegeta's heart fell. 'Are you sure? You must know what damage I've done. I want to try.'

A frown creased her face, and her hand went to her necklace, worrying the pearls there. She wandered back to her desk and leant against it while she stared out the window again, deep in thought. He joined her, hoping that the mind behind those blue eyes was about to offer up the brilliant solution he needed.

'I'm _not_ sure, and that's the problem,' she said eventually. 'These N-clippers, they can be dangerous things. I've been worrying ever since we got back here that we didn't give you enough warning about how to use them, and maybe that's why we were still here. I'm afraid the case studies of time loop creation are pretty limited. Would a small thing like an N-clipper showing up inside a machine prevent you from following the course you took to get here? Is even the slightest difference enough to cause a paradox? There's just no way of knowing.'

'I could…I could go back to right before we put the N-clipper in my machine and take the new one back out again before we have a chance to see it.'

'Maybe,' she said. 'That's still a risk.' She looked across at him, pleading. 'Don't risk it! For me and Trunks and Bra, don't risk it!'

He rubbed his hand over his face. 'I will take care of your plan first.'

'But you can't!' she said. 'If you go back to that day first and then leave - you could still create a paradox and never return!'

She was right, but that hadn't been how he was planning on solving that particular aspect. Her stared back at her, his mouth open and the words he needed to say stuck in his craw.

Her gaze sharpened. 'But you knew that, didn't you? So what are you really suggesting?'

'What if….it's another me that goes back to that day? I will shoulder the risk that my other plan does not work, but your mess will be cleared up and our family reunited.'

The eyes that peered over the top rim of the glasses now were out right suspicious. 'And then there are two "yous" if all goes well. And what happens to you, the one that doesn't go back? Rattling around by yourself in the multiverse still?'

He didn't answer, though he knew the answer was no. He turned back to the window, panicking.

'Huh,' she said, standing up straight suddenly. 'Really?' She walked away from him, back towards the collection of family photo's that hung on the wall.

Vegeta's shame blossomed into some monstrous sensation closely aligned with terror. His heart beat so hard he was surprised it didn't burst. Did she know already? Surely she hadn't guessed?

'She must be pretty special, Vegeta,' she said acidly behind him, 'to warrant splitting the universe over again.'

Oh gods, somehow she _had_ guessed! His face flooded red and he gasped in breath, forcing himself to reply. 'Of course she's special! She's _you!_ And I split the universe thousands of times over for you!'

The sound of her laugh made him turn, sure that this was a prelude to a scathing attack. She was shaking her head and rolling her eyes.

'Good. Of course it's me. It's always me.'

Why wasn't she screaming at him? 'Did you know? Did Trunks or the Kai tell you about…about…' He couldn't finish the sentence.

'No. They didn't need to. When I heard how it was playing out down on her version of Earth I knew how it likely would go.'

'Then why aren't you angry?' he said. In truth, she did look rather pissed off still, but barely registering on the Bulma Richter scale.

She pressed her lips together and turned away again for a second before turning back with her own wry smile.

'Did you think you were the only Vegeta I met in seventeen years time travel and time patrolling?' and her voice was with heavy with the suggestion of what had happened at their meeting.

A sensation like electric shock passed over his skin, turning his limbs cold and his lips numb. He could only stare at her.

'I saw it all in the Time Patrol, Vegeta,' she said eventually. 'Whatever universe, whatever circumstance, given our meeting and enough time, you and I always end up together, even if it's only for a short while. I'm not surprised at all that you fell for another me. But I _am_ surprised you're willing to pick her over me. Or at least over your own children.'

'It's not like that!' he said. 'If I could be with both families at once I would. But I can't! And I can't leave her in those circumstances!'

'What circumstances?' Then she narrowed her eyes. 'Wait, don't tell me - I don't want to know.'

He shook his head. 'Bulma…' He snarled in frustration. 'I would never pick either one of you over the other, you're the same bloody woman!'

She looked back at him hard and took a couple of slow steps towards him. 'Did you split yourself and the universe for all the other Bulmas you fell in the sack with?'

He flushed red. 'What other Bulmas?'

'Don't tell me _that_ was the only time?' she said, laughing.

'Yes!' he said. Whatever did she mean?

'What?' she said, surprised. 'In how long? How long have you been lost?'

'At least ten years. Maybe as long as fifteen.'

Bulma's mouth opened in embarrassed surprise. 'Once in fifteen years? I don't know whether to be impressed or insulted!'

'What! What do you mean…how many times did you…?'

The Woman's face turned beetroot red.

'Oh forget it!' he snapped.

They stood looking at each other, both awkward and red faced over their admissions. And maybe it was from sheer embarrassment, but Vegeta felt one side of his mouth pull up into a twisted half smile. To his amazement the Woman began to laugh, and to his greater amazement, he did too.

Now the shock of what she said had faded he found that he didn't mind the thought so much. When he thought of her and another him together, well, it was not much different than the thought of her with _him_. She loved him. Of course she couldn't keep away from him! The words of the other Bulma echoed in his mind - _You're being ridiculous! Why go beating yourself up, martyr?_ Well, he would not. Not any more.

As he laughed, his heart lightened and swelled with love for this Woman, for all of them.

She crossed the rest of the distance between them, still laughing, although her eyes were bright with moisture again, and shyly leant against him, putting her arm around him.

'Just make sure one of you gets back to us!' she said.

'I said I would!' he said into her hair, closing his eyes. 'Have some faith in me!'

'Okay. Just making sure.'

He sighed at the defeated undertone in her voice. 'I don't think you know how much it hurts like hell that I can't go back to my life with you and our children,' he said. 'I spent all those years fighting the realisation I would never get back to you, and I _finally_ …managed to face the truth. And then Trunks shows up and hands me the way home! But it was too late. And I can't leave the other you like this.'

She hugged him harder. 'You're a good man, Vegeta.'

He grunted cynically. 'Sometimes.'

They stood like that for a while, Vegeta weathering the storm of feelings inside his heart silently, but it was not as bad as it could have been.

He opened his eyes when the light suddenly turned golden. The view outside the window had changed. Now it was sunset on a tropical beach – the same view he would expect from Roshi's living room.

'What?'

She turned to see what he was looking at.

'Do you like it?' she said as he reached out to touch the screen, or whatever it was. It felt like glass, but was slightly warm. The illusion was stunning and utterly realistic, not like a television, not even a 3D screen.

'Another one of your genius inventions?'

'No,' she said, pulling back and grinning with pride. 'Bra's. One of the first things she came up with by herself. She gave it to me as a birthday present.'

He looked again, doubly impressed. 'She's an inventor? Like you?'

'Well, when she stops training long enough to put her mind to it. Technology has certainly taken a back seat the last couple of years.'

'Trunks said she was…a fighter now? I find it hard to believe.'

'Our daughter was hiding her light under a bush Vegeta.'

'But why?'

She shook her head. 'I don't understand it. Trunks's theory is that she was obsessed with seeming normal and being popular and liked. But after we lost you she abruptly dropped the act.'

Vegeta sneered. 'How could any child of ours be _normal?_ Why would they _want_ to be?'

'Why don't you ask her? She'll be back later tonight.'

He stiffened. 'I'm not sure if letting her know I'm here is best.'

Bulma stepped back from him and crossed her arms. 'Oh really? What you mean is, you're a coward and you're scared to face your daughter before leaving.'

'I'm not a coward! Why put her through meeting me only to leave again?'

'Or put you through it.' She tutted and sighed. 'But you're right. Although Bra will find you anyway. I'm sure she'll sense you out the moment she's back in the compound. Unless you propose to hide out in the wilderness while I build another N-clipper, she's going to find you.'

Vegeta was loath to admit that this was his plan.

'So you _will_ you make me another clipper?' he said.

'I will. And I can also give you mine – I only disassembled my machine. I was too cautious to destroy it. But we need to talk about your plan, because I think you need two N-clippers.'

* * *

An hour and some scrawled diagrams later she led him up out of the lab, heading to the house. She had made some calls, arranging for overnight courier delivery of some parts and materials, and also one to the housekeeper to tell her to make enough dinner for five people instead of one.

'You're hungry, I can tell,' she told Vegeta. 'You're stomach's been grumbling loud enough to make it hard to concentrate. Don't worry, Bra said she wouldn't be back in time for dinner – you won't have to cross paths.'

Vegeta was immensely grateful to her. It seemed that the years had only added to her intellect and understanding. She had probably saved his life with her advice. He uncloaked the time machine as they passed it, and she inspected it with a proprietary eye, demanding to be lifted up into the cockpit to see inside.

'You treated my baby rough, Vegeta.' Then she looked up and saw the words etched into the edge of the plexiglass dome and smiled. 'Thank god I built her tough enough to take it. You will destroy it when you're done, right?'

'Of course.'

'The Kaioshin thought you were addicted to time travel.'

He snorted with disgust. 'Woman, if I never see a time machine after this it will be too soon. I _hate_ time travel.'

She smiled again, her face impish under the wrinkles. 'That's what I thought.'

The kitchen was familiar in a way that was disorientating and overwhelming. He had only been back inside this house a few times in all his exile. Every little thing, from the clock on the wall to the silly magnets on the fridge threatened to loose his mind's grip on the when and what he was about.

He didn't recognise the housekeeper. She was polite, middle aged and completely without fear of him until she set the table, at which point she froze, looking at his face.

'What is it, Petunia?' asked Bulma.

'Oh, sorry Bulma,' the woman said, and then patted Vegeta on the arm. 'Very rude of me to stare, but I was suddenly struck by your likeness to Bulma's late husband. I never met him, but I've seen been dusting the family photos for long enough. Are you related?'

Vegeta threw a glare at Bulma, silently demanding she deal with this.

'You're very correct Petunia,' Bulma said. 'Why don't you take off early tonight? I'll finish dinner and serve.'

'Oh, okay Bulma. See you in the morning dear.'

Vegeta eyed the two places set at the table. 'Where is Trunks? Is he coming?' He was almost as worried about meeting him here as Bra, because something told him Trunks was likely to be less understanding about his purpose here than Bulma.

'Not tonight. He's in South City, trying to prevent the housing division of Capsule Corp going into bankruptcy.'

'Bankruptcy!'

'Well, after you disappeared we let the leadership of the company slide, and since we came back it also didn't seem to matter so much, as we expected that this reality was about to cease any moment. Trunks decided to take the presidency seriously recently though…when we decided that maybe you were never going to come through.' She looked over and saw his sullen expression. 'Don't worry, all will be forgiven and forgotten forever in a couple of days. Or at least it better be! We've been telling Bra since we got back that you were likely to return any day. We didn't have the heart to tell her that…this universe would be collapsed. It's not exactly an easy thing to accept. Even _I_ panic a little when I think of it sometimes.'

'How did Bra and your parents take your return?' he asked. 'Ageing seventeen years in one trip?'

'Bra didn't take it very well I'm afraid. But my parents were already dead,' she said, very matter-of-factly. 'Dad had a heart attack and died just a few months after we lost you. Mom barely made a year without him. She got a cold, and it turned into pneumonia. She didn't really fight it.'

He decided not to ask any more questions as the answers he got only seemed to be bad news. He was soon preoccupied with other thoughts though as he sense two powers approaching. They were both considerable, unmasked and coming in fast. Surely…surely not?

'What is it?' asked Bulma turning from straining the pasta when he heard his gasp. He stood up, panicking, wondering if there was time to get out of here before they sensed him. Of course he could, he could instantly transmit himself, but the speed and the closeness of these powers made him sure they had already sensed him.

'Are you expecting someone to come home with Bra?' he asked.

'Yes. She's been out with –'

'Goten.'

'Yes. Don't tell me they're back already?'

'Gods damn it! They already know I'm here! What's she going to think when she sees me?'

So it _was_ Bra he could sense. Unbelievable! Though she'd always burned brighter than a human child the increase was considerable. He wiped his hands on his jeans, trying to resist the urge to flee this trap. He suddenly noticed how filthy and disreputable his jeans were. He could've done with a change of shirt too.

'Stop freaking out,' commanded Bulma, struggling to place the big pot of pasta on the table. 'We'll just tell her you're not really _you_.'

Two figures streaked in to land on the terrace balcony outside the kitchen, and Bra was through the ranch slider in a second, stopping dead when she saw him, wide-eyed and frantic.

'It IS you!' she cried, and then she hurtled forward, barrelling into Vegeta hard enough to make him stagger backwards and have to use his chi to keep them on their feet. 'Dad! Dad! It's you!'

Vegeta was frozen, the moment somehow not seeming real, not sinking in. Nothing ever seemed to happen how he imagined it would, or when, or for the same reasons. Inside his head a wordless howl of regret and sorrow filled the space that thoughts had fled, though he made no sound. The astonished face of Goten as he stood nervously by the ranch slider reminded him to gather himself together.

He pulled Bra back to arms length (which wasn't easy - she was strong) and looked at her. She'd cut her hair into an ear-length pixie cut and her eyes were full of tears. She was dressed as if for a jog, in a baby pink running top and grey lycra leggings, but she wore soft leather training boots, her wrists were bound with tape for sparring. Her bare shoulders and arms were etched with muscle, and there was an array of bruises on her forearms. Her face had hardly changed at all, but everything else was different.

'Bra,' he croaked weakly. What was there to say?

'I can't believe it's really you!' she said.

'It's not him,' said Bulma. Vegeta, Bra and Goten all turned to her.

' _What?_ ' shrieked Bra. 'No! It's him!'

Vegeta held his tongue, letting Bulma take the lead.

'He's similar, but it's not him,' she said. 'And he's not staying. He's only here for a day. But the good news is, as soon as he leaves here, he'll send your father back to us. Isn't that right, Vegeta?'

'Yes,' he said, staring back at Bulma.

'Is this more time travel bullshit?' demanded Bra. 'I don't care!' She turned back to Vegeta her face suddenly fierce and snarled 'I don't care! You look like my Dad, you're my Dad!'

'I'm not your father,' he lied to her, round the lump that was forming in his throat. What a fool he was to have let his guard down, for letting this meeting happen! He knew it would've been easier to stay away from her. 'But I've been looking for a way back to my family and my own daughter Bra for a long time, and she is a lot like you.'

Bra stared back at him, her face miserable. 'So you remember me?'

'Yes.'

'Good,' she said, hugging him again, more gently this time. 'It'll be as if you came home for one day.' Her back started shaking with tears, but he almost held his breath himself. He'd never lost control in front of Bra, and he was damned if he was going to shed a tear in front of Kakarott's youngest, though it was hard, very hard not to. The boy was looking very uncomfortable, still at the door. Why didn't he just leave? Bulma was leaning back against the kitchen bench, pressing her hand to her mouth. When he caught her eye she came to his rescue, reaching out to take Bra's shoulders and tug her gently away from him.

'Bra, Goten, why don't you sit down and have some dinner?' she said gently, ignoring her daughter's distress and pushing her towards the table. 'We don't have enough really, but we can order some pizza to fill you up. I thought you wouldn't be back in time for dinner.'

'That's okay Mrs B,' said Goten. He held up a plastic carrier bag, full to the top with cardboard takeaway boxes. 'We got some stuff on the way home.'

Vegeta took his old seat at the head of the kitchen table, Bra on his left, sniffling and staring at him. Bulma brought more plates, salad and the pot of ragout to the table while Goten unpacked the takeaways. Vegeta wondered why the boy was even here. Goten had been a regular feature at their dinner table as he grew up, but Trunks wasn't around today.

'Where have you been, Dad?' asked Bra in a tiny voice.

'Lost, just like your mother and brother were.'

'Tell me what you've been doing.'

'There's not much to tell,' he said. At least, not much he wanted to tell her. He changed the subject. 'Since when have you been a fighter? You never wanted to learn martial arts from me.'

'Ever since I figured that there might be things worth fighting for,' she said plainly. 'I don't love it like you did. But I find some pleasure in it now,' she said, her eyes darting over to Goten.

'Who have you been learning from?' he asked, just as he realised the answer was obvious. 'Don't tell me – _this_ amateur here has been training you.' He inclined his head towards the boy. One of his own trained by the least member of the Son clan? Eurgh! Well, maybe not least. There was Pan he supposed. Or Chichi.

Goten pinked up at Vegeta's tone, but just laughed nervously, like it was a joke.

'Well, yeah,' said Bra. 'But other people too. When I first decided I wanted to learn to fight I got Chichi to show me some stuff.' Vegeta shuddered as his worst hope was confirmed. 'I didn't want to embarrass myself in front of the guys. Then Pan helped me a lot, and her parents, and Trunks of course. But lately it's mostly been Goten.'

'You should have let me train you from the start,' he said harshly, aware that the bitter feeling in his stomach was probably jealousy.

'Yeah, I should have.'

Bulma took a seat on the other side of him. Vegeta looked at the spread of food on the table without much enthusiasm. He seemed to have lost his appetite. Goten got up and helped himself to a drink from the fridge like he owned the place.

'Anyone else want a beer?' Goten asked. Bra said yes and Vegeta experienced another small jolt of dislocation. The Bra he remembered had hated the taste of beer, and certainly wouldn't have been allowed to drink one at the dinner table. 'Vegeta, sir? Would you like one?'

'You may not have picked it up on my lack of positive response the first time you asked, because you are an idiot, but, no, I _do not_ want a beer.'

'Dad! If you're only here for one day, do you think you could possibly manage not to be mean to Goten for that time?'

'If I'm only here for one day, why'd it have to be my luck that it's a day he's visiting? Don't you have a home of your own to go to boy?'

Bulma, Bra and Goten all froze in place.

'Vegeta,' growled Bulma. 'Shut up.'

'No, it's okay Mrs B. Maybe I should go. It's a family reunion after all.'

'No!' said Bra. 'You're not going anywhere. You're part of the family now.'

What was she talking about? Had Goten attached himself even more firmly, like a tick, to the family in his absence?

'Dad,' said Bra. 'This is Goten's home now too. So deal with it.'

Vegeta scoffed. 'Why is Son Goten living in _our_ house?' And then in the awkward pause that followed this question he saw Bra's blush, Bulma's tension and Goten's abject fear, and understanding fell like red mist over his brain.

He stood abruptly, his chi boiling up and over making the photos pinned to the fridge flutter and fall to the ground.

Bra and Bulma were both out of their seats yelling at him, but Goten was backing away towards the ranch slider, still holding the beer.

'I'll KILL him!' Vegeta snarled, bursting over the threshold into Super Saiyan without even consciously deciding to. Goten immediately powered up, dropping the two beers he was holding. As Vegeta stepped forward Bra was clinging to his arm, a not-insignificant impedance, but he dragged her along too.

'No Super Saiyans in the house!' screamed Bulma. 'Get out!'

Goten fled through the ranch slider and Vegeta went after him, brain-scarring suggestions of how Goten might have defiled his baby girl making it hard to see straight. He was going to rip the whelp limb from limb when he caught him.

Goten headed out away from the city, out over the parkland that fringed West River, and then to Vegeta's surprise and satisfaction, he turned and squared up to him, preparing to fight. At least he had some balls – balls that Vegeta was going to crush into peanut butter before he was through.

'Vegeta stop and lets talk about-'

'Shut your mouth, dog!'

Bra caught up to them, getting in his face, putting herself between him and the boy.

'Dad, no!'

'Go back to the house, Bra! I'll deal with you later!'

'Dad, stop it! What do you think you're doing? I'm a grown woman!'

'You're a silly child!'

Her eyes ignited with blue fire. ' _What?_ '

He tried to flick her away, but she was not easily moved.

'She's not the kid you abandoned,' shouted Goten, and those words set fire to Vegeta's guilt like phosphorous burning his heart out. How _dare_ he turn it onto him?

Vegeta pushed Bra away, harder, grabbing her shoulder and spinning to throw her up into the sky. Then he flew at Goten, thinking of all the times the boy had stayed in his house, ate his table, been a friend to his son, all the while Bra grew from a tiny baby to a teen that boys hounded, with no sense or caution when it came to them, who nursed a massive crush on Goten…

'Took advantage! Wolf! Wolf at the table!' he roared, pushed past coherency by anger.

'No!' the boy denied, hard pushed to fend off Vegeta's unsubtle head-on attack. Vegeta aimed kicks at his head, at his chest and Goten was being battered back towards the ground. 'Alright then, old man, you want a fight, we'll fight!'

He began to power up, but for once Vegeta was not tempted by the thought of a challenge. 'I don't want a fight – I want your blood splashed all the way from here to Capsule Corp!' Vegeta yelled, finally landing a kick in the boy's middle that dropped him like a stone. Before Goten could fall far though Vegeta appeared underneath him, catching him with one arm around his waist and the other around his neck.

Goten gave a tooth clenched 'Nnnnn!' of pain as Vegeta's forearm came crushing down on his windpipe. Just a few days ago Vegeta had held the boy's father, his friend, in the same hold, but though he had hardly hoped to keep Kakarott down with the chokehold, he knew Goten would not get away. He experienced a moment's lucidity and wondered if he would regret this murder, and what Kakarott would think of him if he knew he'd killed a version of his son in some reality.

A golden streak of light smashed this thought out of his head when it slammed into it. He was knocked through the air and he lost his grip on Goten, dazed and hurting, but as he flipped himself upright to see his attacker he saw the most beautiful Saiyan angel flying straight at him.

'I will not let you _kill my fiancé!_ '

He was so shocked he forgot to block and he took her kick right on the sternum. He fell like a rock, struggling to draw breath and overall regretting letting that kick land. Super Saiyan? Fiancé? _Super Saiyan!_

He splashed down into West River and hit the bottom of the riverbed. He lay there a few moments, letting the shock and the cold water cool his rage.

What had the girl got herself into? She was a child still, more or less – she had no business being engaged. Well, at least Goten was serious about her, although eurgh! The thought still made him want to kill him. But he wouldn't.

He smiled to himself under the water, opening his eyes. He could see the glowing golden auras of the two above the river, shattered to pieces by the surface of the water. He'd made even with Kakarott. They _both_ had two Super Saiyan children now. And one of his was female, and Kakarott could never claim that.

He raised himself out of the river, letting the water turn to steam from the heat of his chi. 'Dad!' screamed Bra at the sight of him, but Goten said 'See, I told you he was fine.'

'Fiancé?' he growled, floating menacingly towards Goten. The boy held his ground.

'That's right, sir. We love each other, and we're going to get married.'

Bra darted between the two of them again, getting in the way.

'Hiding behind your child bride I see.'

'Dad! Will you shut up! I'm not a child any more! I'm twenty and I have a double Masters in Physics and Engineering!'

'Well you'll need enough brains for two people if you marry that son of an imbecile.'

She screeched in rage, doing a very good impression of her mother, but not like her mother, she gathered fistfuls of chi ready to unleash upon him. 'I'm not kidding, I will aim to hit you, Dad!'

Vegeta grimaced in disappointment. She was no fighter after all, and obviously required more goading to get her into action. He made as if to get past her to Goten and she reacted instantly, hurling one bolt of energy at him and then the other. Vegeta deflected both with ease, but she still didn't attack.

'I'm glad you seem able to defend yourself against the average threat, but I don't think much of Goten's training so far,' he said, folding his arms again.

That got a rise out of Goten, but it finally snapped Bra. She came at him with a shrill roar, and Vegeta fended her kicks and blows, laughing, which seemed to enrage her further. 'Where is your focus? Where is your technique?'

'Shut up!'

'Yeah, because you were so focused and technical before when you came at me,' said Goten. Vegeta sent a massive blast of chi at him without even looking away from his daughter's furious eyes. That quieted the punk for the time being. Vegeta decided to turn up the heat on Bra. Never in a thousand years would he have thought he'd be sparring with her on this level, and he wanted to see what she was capable of. He began fighting back, testing her defences, not too hard for now. He watched her eyebrows climb back up her face as she found she was battling uphill just to not let her father land a punch.

'I don't know what you think you're doing getting "engaged" at your age,' he said to her. 'And to him! He's too old for you, Bra.'

He batted her in the side, not as hard as he could, just hard enough to let her know she'd left her guard open. She grunted, in anger more than pain, and backed off.

'He's not too old! I mean he was, but now that I'm older – it's not such a big difference!'

'You're a foolish girl with a crush!'

'No! I know how I was about him when I was young, but I had other boyfriends before I started with Goten. It's not a crush! I know it's the real thing!'

' _Other_ boyfriends?' Vegeta shook his head angrily, trying to shake away the unpleasant but irrelevant thought. Bra came back at him, trying feinting, after images and then a solar flare, which did the trick. He was blinded, so he closed his eyes and fended her off using his sense of Chi alone. She did land a few hard hits then, including one to the ear. He grunted and she hesitated. It occurred to him that she still wasn't fighting him at full strength because she was afraid of hurting him, just like he was of her. Which was a little annoying, because how was he to see her limits if she didn't fight all out?

As the solar flare wore off he blinked and saw her hanging in front of him en-garde but with tears in her eyes. Well, some things hadn't changed. He glanced up and saw Goten sitting with crossed arms and legs in the air, keeping himself to himself. Wise boy.

'You don't know where he's been,' he told Bra, almost gagging on the words with distaste. 'Goten consorted with half the women in West City.' He'd seen enough and heard enough stories from Trunks to know that Goten had certainly played the field.

'I know he's had heaps of girlfriends, but that was in the past. And none of them were serious!'

'So _he_ says. Tell me, did he pounce on you the moment I was out of the picture?' Suddenly his blood was boiling again.

'Of course not! I was only sixteen! Not that I would've minded, but Goten just didn't see me that way back then. Dad, you've got him all wrong. I was nearly nineteen before anything happened.'

Vegeta felt his lip curl back in a sneer of disgust, his stomach turning over too. He didn't want to think about what 'happened'.

'We only got engaged about four months ago.'

'What is "engaged" anyway?' said Vegeta, annoyed at the Earthling term. 'The marriage is the commitment. The engagement is what? A promise to be committed? What's the hold up? Goten not ready to commit just yet? A few more women left in West City who's calls he hasn't returned yet?'

Bra screamed in outrage, attacking again with the most fury she'd displayed so far. She unloaded a barrage of energy attacks at him, one of which he didn't manage to deflect and it flew off and blew up a large chunk of hillside, trees and all. Bra looked appalled with what she'd done, but Vegeta pressed on, catching her out with a kick to the thigh that spun her in the air. He caught her by the ankle, scolding her. 'Sloppy, and you are far too distracted by irrelevancies whilst fighting.'

But she then proved herself to be the most flexible fighter he'd encountered since Buu. Hanging upside down with her ankle trapped in his hands she first drew her other leg back to stamp in his face, and as he was distracted with that she arched her back, twisted and hit him hard in the inner thigh, narrowly missing his balls.

'Oof!'

Suddenly he found himself wrestling with a Super Saiyan eel, her small wrists and ankles too small to stop her rotating in the holds, and all the while she hit him with a relentless shower of kicks and blows. They were too short to do real damage, but distracting all the same. From above he heard Goten's laughter drift down to them. She even bit him on the calf!

'Argh! Vixen! Who taught you to fight like that?' He threw her away, and she stopped her momentum, panting hard.

She didn't answer him, her face livid as she powered up. Oh yes, here it came, the ascended Super Saiyan form! He couldn't stop the grin spread from one side of his face to the other.

'Very good! Now prepare yourself for a lesson from your own dear father.'

* * *

An hour later, after the sun had set and the dusk turned to near full dark Vegeta realised they should probably not let the Woman worry any longer. And he was hungrier than ever before. He'd put Bra through her paces, admonishing her for her lack of focus until she eventually calmed into a cool, hard anger. She had fought back, harder and harder, and once she realised that she couldn't really hurt him she had held nothing back. Her technique was not up to standard with her power and speed. Her lack of experience showed, and her defensive holes could get her killed one day if she were to fight a powerful foe for real. But she was a Super Saiyan, and her potential was already far above what he had hoped when she was born.

She hung panting in the sky, doubled over from exhaustion and a head butt he'd given her right in the gut. Vegeta himself had a long set of fingernail gashes that ran from wrist to elbow, which were going to sting like fury later. When he'd told her she fought like a girl she'd taken it all the wrong way.

'Let's get our dinner then,' he said, abruptly abandoning the fight.

' _What?_ '

'It'll already be cold.' He flew onwards without looking back, still smiling with glee. She followed him, and then a little way back, Goten trailed. Vegeta frowned. He guessed he was just going to have to put up with the boy, but there was at least one thing he wanted to say to him that was immediately relevant.

He dropped back to him, letting himself return to his base form, though Goten stayed powered up, eyeing Vegeta nervously.

'Train her better!' he snapped at the younger man. 'Even _you_ can manage better than that! She'd have been killed a hundred times over today if I had been a serious opponent.'

Goten's face shifted from nervousness to surprise to embarrassment and finally settled into anger. 'Yes, Sir!' he replied, and satisfied for now, Vegeta left him.

Bulma looked pissed off when they finally filed in the ranch slider. She'd been keeping their dinner warm in the oven, and as Vegeta sat down and tucked in as if nothing had happened he could feel her glare scorching him, but he didn't care. The others ploughed into their meals also, all three in silent agreement not to talk about the unsettled business while food was the more pressing issue.

'Right…' said Bulma eventually, crossing her arms in annoyance. 'Bra, after dinner, you're coming down to the lab with me. I need your help with something.'

* * *

Later that night Vegeta had showered in his old bathroom, put on some of his old clothes, and found a gym back in the back of the wardrobe which he stuffed full of all the clothes and footwear it could hold. He felt ill at ease in his old bedroom though. He stripped the sheets and the comforter off the bed and carried them out of the house again and down into the lab. The bed and the room held too many memories. For now, he'd rather be reminded of more recent memories. The two women in the lab, heads close together as Bulma explained to Bra what she needed her to do, didn't even look up as he carried the couch from Bulma's old office – now Bra's office – on his shoulder into the hangar. He fell exhausted upon it. His nap in the dark of space had not been enough.

When he woke in the morning to the grey-headed form of Bulma frowning down at him. He had a sudden moment of anxiety when he realised that he wasn't home, and then another of astonishment when he realised that the smashed up lab in the dismal arm of reality had so quickly come to take that place in his mind occupied by _home_.

'Good morning,' she said.

'Did you work through the night?' he asked.

'No! That's a young woman's game. But you've been asleep for ten hours. Bra and I worked, went to bed, got up and had breakfast all before you were stirring.'

He watched them working in the lab. It seemed the most natural thing to do now. The couriered parts and materials arrived. Bulma's instructions to Bra were densely technical, and he didn't understand most of them, but it brought him a sense of pleasure to see his daughter learning at her mother's side.

Goten brought them lunch, but before he left he had the audacity to address Vegeta.

'Um, Vegeta sir, could I have a word with you?' He tried to ask quietly, but Bra heard, and looked up anxiously.

Vegeta just glared at him. He wasn't sure if he would have the forebearance to make it through a conversation with Goten without ripping his throat out.

'In private,' added Goten.

At least in private Bra wouldn't have to witness the consequences if he did lose patience with her fiancé. 'Fine.'

Goten led him out into the hangar, and then up into the garden, reminding Vegeta unpleasantly of Trunk's visit the morning after his fight with Kakarott.

'What is it?' he demanded, the moment their feet touched the lawn.

'Because you weren't here,' started Goten slowly, 'I didn't have the opportunity to ask your permission to marry Bra.'

'And what makes you think I would give it?'

'I'm not stupid. I remember how protective you always were of her, and I knew you wouldn't be happy to just accept me. It's not even you that I have to convince anyway, it's her _real_ father, whenever he gets back.'

Vegeta began to growl deep in his throat. 'I doubt he will see things differently.'

'I know! I'm counting on that. I know it's a shock that you just arrived here and Bra's gone from a teenager to –'

'To barely older than a teenager!'

'But she grew up fast after you left! Ask anyone. Believe me, I would never have thought of touching her when she was younger. She was more of a pest than a love interest. But things changed later…'

'Once you were her _teacher?_ '

'I guess.'

Vegeta felt the red mist threatening to descend again, and bunched his fists. 'Teaching her how to fight, and then teaching her how to fu-' He choked on that though, his brain flatly refusing to associate that word in any way with his daughter.

Goten looked shocked. 'It wasn't like that! I didn't seduce her or anything! If anything it was the other way round, and it took her a long time to convince me to let it happen.'

'Are you implying that my daughter is some kind of slut?' he barked, heat flushing up from his collar.

'Ha! Ha, no!' said Goten nervously. 'Look, I know you're not cool with it. But do you think you ever could be? She's not a little girl. And if it wasn't me it would be someone else eventually. Maybe you won't agree, but I think I'd be a good husband for her.'

'If I don't give permission, does it mean you cannot marry?' asked Vegeta, unsure of this Earth custom.

'No. She's old enough to marry without her parents' permission.'

'Then what does it matter what I think?'

'Because it would mean so much to Bra, Sir! She's said all along that she doesn't want to get married until you come home and can give her away at her wedding. That's why we haven't married yet. I don't want her heart to be broken if there is no hope of you ever accepting me as her partner.'

'Mmm.' Now he felt bad. 'It didn't stop you moving in though, did it? What happened? Couldn't pay the rent again?'

Now it was Goten's turn to flush red. 'My finances are far healthier these days, thank you. My landlord was selling my apartment. It was Bulma who suggested I move in if you must know.'

 _That woman!_ Vegeta huffed. He glared off into the far distance, seriously considering Goten's question now. It's true, the girl would and had inevitably fallen in love with someone, would and had become carnal with said person, and would and had chosen a mate. So all these things being true, was there any objection to Goten being that person over any other? Other than that he was the son of his great rival? And he looked like the buffoon as well? What was twelve years really? How long would these two live? Even a pure human could make it to a hundred if they were lucky…Even a Saiyan could die young if they were killed in combat.

He tried to imagine Bra with anyone else, but the 'anyone else's' that came to mind were the cretinous human boys she had gone to school with, and they were all so weak and so horribly ordinary. No, Goten was certainly the best choice of mate based on blood stock alone – he was the only single male of Saiyan heritage. Their children would be as strong as they were, no doubt. He shuddered – his and Bulma's blood mixed with Kakarott's and Chichi's!

He felt that Goten had betrayed him and taken advantage of his closeness to the family. Could he forgive that? This reality was ending very soon anyway. Bra would never get the chance to marry Goten. Did it matter what he said? Then he realised that there was every chance the same union would happen in the mended timeline. That Vegeta _would_ have to deal with it.

He sighed in defeat. 'I could come round to it I suppose.'

Goten sighed also, sagging in relief. Vegeta decided he wasn't going to let him off the hook that easily.

'Tell me boy, was my daughter a virgin when she came to your bed?'

Goten turned bright red and squirmed on the spot, looking the spitting image of his idiot father. His face was a tortured grimace as he considered his answer. Vegeta could almost hear the cogs turning inside his brain as he tried to decide which response would get him and Bra in hotter water.

'Yes?' he said.

Vegeta lashed out a knee and caught him in the crotch and Goten crumpled to the ground with a soft, high-pitched moan.

'That's for despoiling my daughter,' said Vegeta, grinning nastily, 'or for lying to me. Either way.' He had planned to do that no matter what he answered. Chuckling, he left the boy writhing in pain and headed back to the lab.

* * *

By nine o'clock that night the new N-clipper was finished. Vegeta would not wait. The more Bra begged him to stay a little longer the more desperate he was to leave. 'Not again,' he fretted internally as she tortured him with her hope and her tears. She would wreck his resolve.

They stood in front of the time machine, which was illuminated from below by the garden floodlights. Vegeta clutched his bag of clothes and two N-clippers.

'Leave him alone,' said Bulma, coming to his rescue again. 'Remember that the sooner he leaves, the sooner we get your real father back!' She stepped towards him and gave him a brief, tight hug. They had already said to each other what needed to be said in private. He and his mate were of one mind now - the plan they had worked out was the best and only solution, but that didn't mean she wasn't still anxious about it. 'Don't you _dare_ let us down,' she hissed in his ear.

Bra hugged him again. Goten stayed well back, sulking and still moving gingerly from the cheap shot Vegeta had handed him.

'What did you do to Goten?' Bra had asked him angrily at dinnertime.

'Gave him my permission to marry you,' he replied, and she had shut right up, looking pleased and surprised. 'I'm sure you will be very happy together,' he said mockingly, 'though it's a good thing that you're rich, clever and powerful.'

Now she said 'I love you, Dad,' as he let go of her, and the stone in his chest got a little heavier.

'Goodbye, daughter,' he said and jumped into the cockpit, the scene heart wrenchingly familiar. He would enjoy destroying the machine when he was done. He couldn't wait for a fresh page of history – something new to be lived in a linear fashion, each day and each outcome a surprise, and no more goodbyes.

* * *

An hour later, from his refuge in the emptiness of space he felt ready to go on.

Scrolling back through his jumps and using his notes he selected his destination. He'd put a lot of thought into it. It was two dozen or so jumps before he'd been time-jacked. It was his last failed attempt to recreate his universe before having to start over. He had chosen this universe because there was no Bulma alive in it, and therefore splitting it would not lead to more time machines being built. Next he lifted the seat of the chair and pulled out the wire from his N-clipper like Bulma had shown him.

Right. He felt even more uneasy about this jump than the last. There were no surprises or heartbreaks waiting for him were he was going, just one unpredictable factor – himself.


	42. The Warning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Yay, a new chapter at last! It might be the second to last chapter, or perhaps the third to last. We'll see. If you get confused reading this (hopefully you don't) there is a longer author's note at the bottom of this chapter with some further explanation.

Vegeta fell to his knees at the threshold of the house that his in laws had built. He knew the second he had jumped forward in this timeline that something had gone wrong. The Capsule compound and even the city itself looked unkempt. There were people in the city, and some even on the Capsule Corp grounds, but the mass of their weak energies was not nearly what they should be. The house Bulma had designed was not there, and as he had stepped up to the door of the older one and pushed his way through the locked front door into the dark, musty stink of a house that hadn't been habituated in a long time, he knew he had failed yet again. There was no family. There was no Trunks, no Bra, no Bulma, and not even Bulma's bumbling parents.

'No, not again! What was it this time?' he roared at the universe in general. 'Can't you ever let me get it right?' and then he devolved into a wordless howl of despair, driving his fists through the tiles of the hall, his chi flaring out in a spontaneous inferno of despair and frustration. The furnishings caught alight, and Vegeta fanned the flames, turning the ground floor into a furnace, as if a piece of the fierce, consuming creature that drove him on had escaped to make its anger known.

Something had gone wrong. He would have to figure out what and start over, making an adjustment for the unexpected development…he had done it so many times, it would seem sense that he should be getting used to it, but instead each time he failed his disappointment seemed to be greater, until it became this thing that felt more like rage than sorrow.

Finally the heat and smoke drove him back out into the garden. He stood there coughing and covering his watering eyes with his hands. He dropped them when a energy bumped against his mind like a sledgehammer out of nowhere.

'Found you,' said a gravely voice from behind him. He spun around to see who it belonged to, and his despair turned to irritation at what he saw. Another Vegeta stood there, looking roughly the same age as himself, with the same hair cut. He wore a familiar looking navy t-shirt, black jeans and jacket - the kind of things he would wear, but also white boots and white gloves that he hadn't worn for years.

It was just his luck that this reconstructed universe didn't contain the things that he actually wanted, but it still contained one of _him_.

'I was just leaving,' he told the other Vegeta, wondering if he was about to start anything.

'I know,' said the other, crossing his arms. He didn't precisely look relaxed, but he didn't look like he was about to attack either. Vegeta decided to press his luck by questioning him.

'What happened to the people who lived here?' he asked, nodding to the huge capsule house, which was now belching black smoke out the windows.

'You planted Cell about a day too soon. The androids wandered directly into Cell's path and he was Perfect before anyone knew what he was and what he was doing here. Half the Z-fighters were dead before the end of the day, including Piccolo and Gohan. The rest took a bit longer…Cell fed on half the planet, but keeps the rest alive as his subjects, serving him for his amusement and building him a star-faring fleet so that he can go out and conquer the rest of the galaxy. Bulma and her parents were killed for refusing to co-operate.'

Vegeta blinked at this news. 'You're not from this timeline then?'

'No. I'm you. I burned that house down myself just a few months ago.'

Vegeta felt a shiver of alarm run through him. This had never happened before. He always avoided confrontations with other timeline versions of himself if he could help it, and certainly never sought out or did anything to interfere with any past selves he came across.

'Why are you here?'

The other Vegets clenched and unclenched his fists over and over, nervously. 'To send you home.'

' _What?_ What do you mean?'

'I have a way home. To our timeline. You've got to go back to the day we left.'

He squashed the blossom of hope that these words elicited and reverted to suspicion. 'Is that so? Why aren't you back already then?'

The other Vegeta closed his eyes for a second, gathering himself. 'Because things change. It's too late for me to go back.'

'How can it be too late? What have you done?'

'What will _you_ do, you mean. Hold in mind that I was you not very long ago as I tell you this tale…'

* * *

The first half of his explanation had gone surprisingly smoothly Vegeta thought. He'd told him about the time patrol first, and Trunks's visit with the N-clippers and his family being scattered to the wind. The other Vegeta took that almost as badly as he had, with rigid panic and horror. But then came the inevitable question of what had happened that meant he wouldn't go back himself. He began a very defensive version of the last three months. The other, slightly younger version of himself had insulted, accused and berated him almost every step of the way, falling into a long growl of disgust when he intimated his willing seduction by the other Bulma.

'You did it!' he snapped at the furious face of the other. 'If I hadn't come along now you'd go wandering into that same mess, believe me!'

'Whatever.'

But when he stumbled, shamefaced through the revelation that Bulma was pregnant he'd found himself launched backwards through the air, head ringing with pain from the punch to the cheekbone the other Vegeta had given him, and smashed through a tree.

After that things got a bit messy.

'Faithless dog!'

'I'm you, you stupid prick!'

It didn't matter what he said, the wrath was out of the bag. Vegeta knew he should stop trying to pound the other one to pulp, but each accusation stung like the lash of a whip, and he hated the other Vegeta for saying them.

'I'm not the prick,' snarled the other one, as they grappled in the mud on the edge of the water hazard in what used to be the golf course. His former self got a hand wrapped in his hair and pulled his head back roughly, and Vegeta blocked a lethal blow to his windpipe. 'I wasn't the one who couldn't keep it to himself a moment longer!'

Vegeta curled himself over and got his legs round the other Vegeta's head in a scissor lock. They thrashed about, and he forced the other one's face into the mud.

'Fuck you arsehole, we're both as much to blame for everything!'

The other guy flung a fist out, striking him in the crotch. He was expecting that one though, but not the chi-hardened fingers that took him by surprise in the kidney. He screamed, unable to get away while he held the other down. They tore at each other, a graceless battle that was not worthy of the golden Super Saiyan aura that lit the mud and reeds around them. It certainly wasn't the glorious thing that the fight with Kakarott had been. The other guy scratched his face, hooking a finger in his nostril and tearing it. Vegeta bit the hand before it got away, almost taking a hunk of flesh clean off.

The other Vegeta howled and powered up to Super Saiyan level two with a burst, throwing him off. Vegeta powered up too, unable to think past his own anger to a way out of this that didn't involve escalating the violence.

'I don't want to kill you,' he shouted, 'But at the same time, I want to _fucking_ _kill_ _you!_ '

'I won't kill you, ' said the other, 'but only because I want the way home. However, I'll take you within an inch of your life!'

'So _you_ think!'

He thought back to the battle with Kakarott, remembering his desperation to get back to Bulma, remembering that now two Bulmas, two families hung on his success here…With a scream he pulled his Super Saiyan transformation onwards, making the ground buckle, levelling the trees in the compound with the burst of chi from his sudden transformation. He heard the other Vegeta gasp in shock at the speed at which he reached the third level.

Probably the other Vegeta could make the transformation too, if he gave him long enough, but he wasn't going to give him the chance.

'Let me know when you feel you're at your last inch, won't you?' he laughed at the scared face of the other one. 'I don't want to have to split the universe and go through this all over again if you die.'

'Son of a b-'

The other Vegeta didn't even get to finish his curse. Vegeta had caught him in an instant and began methodically beating the crap out of him. In less than a minute he had the other him on the ground, bloodied and unconscious. As he powered down and made sure that the other one was still breathing he felt vaguely ashamed at this dishonourable fight. Had there really been no better way to do this?

He picked the other Vegeta up by the wrist, as limp as a rag doll, and transmitted them both to his mountain where he had left the time machine out of harm's way. Quickly he retrieved the tools and the N-clipper he needed, and returned them all to the Capsule Compound. He left the unconscious Vegeta on the ground next to the other time machine, and used his own remote to open the hatch.

_Undoing the bolt that held the seat down, he lifted it and began wiring in the N-clipper like he had watched Bulma do outside the Son house. The older Bulma had further added to her sheet of installation instructions, idiot-proofing them, as she had said. He wasn't as fast as the Woman had been, but he was done in less than a quarter of an hour…._

Undoing the bolt that held the seat down he lifted it and froze in confusion. There was already an N-clipper inside! He turned it over and saw the figures scrawled on the side. NC-11. That was the number of the N-clipper he had left behind in his own machine, the one he planned to install into the time machine after his first disastrous jump. Of course! Bulma had warned him this may happen. He had succeeded in his mission at some point in his own personal future, and time was now running its second iteration, this time with an N-clipper already on board. He had to avoid doing anything differently this time round than he would have done the first time round, or else he would cause a paradox.

Quickly, he pulled the NC-11 clipper out and replaced it with the NC-10. The older Bulma had further added to her sheet of clipper installation instructions, idiot-proofing them, as she had said. He wasn't as fast as the Woman had been, but he was done in less than quarter on an hour, sweating the whole time from the knowledge that the wrong move could unstick his existence. Not knowing what else to do with it, he left the extraneous N-clipper loose in the space under the seat and did the bolt back up.

Next he loaded the universe destination co-ordinates from his remote onto the computer and set the time, and then went to retrieve the passenger.

Looking down at the muddied and bloodied face of the other, he was stuck suddenly by his own resemblance to his son. This reminded him of the times he had gone too far during training with Trunks and seriously injured the boy. Those times the Woman had been upset, and she'd be upset too when she saw the state he was sending this Vegeta home in.

He imagining his mate fusing over his injuries and his brusque dismissal of her overreacting concern, and had to swallow down the bitter regret and jealousy that followed.

He tapped the face of the sleeper gently, and then shook him by the front of the leather vest he wore until he at last stirred with a groan.

'Wake up. You have a home to get to.'

The other Vegeta focused woozily on his face and raised himself slowly to his elbows and asked 'How?'

'It is already done. All you have to do is get the machine in the air and hit the jump button.'

'How can I trust you?'

'I _am_ you.'

'Exactly.'

'If you don't do as I say you will never get home.'

Grimacing the other Vegeta rose unsteadily to his feet and then pitched forwards. Vegeta caught him by the vest front and pulled him up into the air, settling him in the cockpit as he swore softly in pain.

'Maybe they'll have a Senzu bean handy when you get home,' Vegeta told him.

'Screw you.'

'Make sure you destroy the time machine and tell Bulma not to build another.'

The other Vegeta gave him a look loaded with contempt. 'You don't need to tell _me_ that!'

Vegeta was about to drop to the ground when he remembered another thing he wanted to say.

'Train you daughter. She has the potential to reach the Ascended Super Saiyan form at the least.'

The other Vegeta's head snapped up, but then he grabbed the sides of his face as if his brain was rattling around inside his skull. 'How do you know that?'

'I saw it. I _fought_ her! That lazy girl has been faking banality, but the potential is there to be tapped if she puts her mind to it.'

'Huh,' grunted the other.

Vegeta bit his lip, unsure whether that he was about to say would help things or not. 'Don't be surprised if she decides on Kakarott's youngest as a mate.'

'Goten!' snarled the other.

'After consideration…he may be the best choice for her.'

The other Vegeta growled. 'I'll be the judge of that.'

As Vegeta's feet touched the ground the other Vegeta leaned out of the cockpit and said 'You make me sick. All these years of searching and you turn your back on your family just like _that_.'

'Shut the hell up!' he shouted back at him. 'You've no idea what you're talking about! Now get out of here before I change my mind and swap places with you! I'll send you back to the ruined universe I've just come from, to live like a rat in a hole!' It was an empty threat. He would trust no other Vegeta except himself, the one who had lived these last three months, to go back to there. And it was not a bad fate after all.

The other Vegeta snorted with disgust and closed the hatch. Vegeta waited, staring at the ground as the hoverjets fired up, and the machine rose in the air to disappear in silence.

He shook his head, trying to fight off the other Vegeta's words. If he let himself he'd fall into a pit of self-loathing. But the words of the old Bulma comforted him. 'You are a good man.' And sometimes he was, and sometimes he wasn't, but this time he knew he was doing the only right thing that he could.

His heart lifted again when he remembered that he would soon be back with _her_. She would not have to read the letter. Her, another Trunks, another daughter…he'd have everything that mattered.

* * *

The young Kaioshin-in-waiting Gomu looked up from his suddenly empty crystal ball. He turned to the pink skinned face of the fellow to his right.

'Keshi, something just happened,' he said to him. 'The universe I was watching just disappeared.' Keshi looked back at him blankly, but the blue-skinned, pointy eared girl in front of him swivelled round.

'You too? I wonder…' She stood up, and looked around the rolling meadow where a thousand young Kai sat in the sunshine staring into their crystal balls. 'Seems as if quite a few people have lost their focus.' All around them a murmur of conversation started up as a decent scattering of junior Observers made similar inquiries of their friends.

'Probably just the Time Patrol at work,' said Keshi, going back to staring into the depths of his ball. 'Hey, you'll never guess what Goku is doing in my universe right now!'

'It's not the Time Patrol,' said Gomu. 'They've all either disappeared or are grounded, remember?'

'I guess it can only be a good thing,' said the girl. 'I'm going to make a report.'

'Add my universe to the list will you Ereaza?' asked Gomu, already searching for another unobserved universe to get to grips with.

* * *

With a sigh of aches and pains Vegeta settled himself into the cockpit of his own machine again. He had hooked up the N-clipper once more, and set course for the first timeline listed on his machine's computer. The clock was set for the night before he left that timeline. He was sorely tempted to return to his originating universe to check that the other Vegeta had made it, but he had an equally important task to do first before he added any extra hazards to his schedule.

Three in the morning, 153 days after Vegeta had gotten his machine fried by Cell, and not a soul stirred on the Capsule Compound besides the security guards in the corporate buildings and at the gates. He could feel two notable energies, both him, both muted in sleep. Vegeta grinned – his luck was on the up.

Sneaking into the hangar and installing NC-11 into the machine was child's play. In fifteen minutes he was back in his own machine. He cloaked it, backed off away from the house, and fast-forwarded to the following morning where he watched the still-shiny and new time machine rise directly out of the hangar and wink away into fifteen years of miserable toil and loneliness.

Taking his own machine back to his 'thinking universe' he searched through the recent entries on the computer for the universe where they had found Trunks. He tried to remember what time they had snuck out to install the N-clipper in front of the Son house. They had skipped through hour by hour, but the minutes had slipped depending on how long it took to charge the capacitators and make their observations. Muttering curses, he set course to a location even further back from the house and waited for everyone else – Trunks, and himself and Bulma - to show. After Trunks was in the house the first time, Vegeta fast forwarded fifteen minutes until he was sure that he and Bulma must be gone (and he was too far back to even sense them), and then flew in closer under the cover of the cloaking device, settling it down right next to the boy's machine. It was dusk, so he didn't even have the benefit of darkness, but he might not need it anyway.

He eyed the other cockpit and instantly transmitted himself directly inside it, and when it worked perfectly, laughed at his cleverness. Keeping low, he used the tools he brought to remove the N-clipper and any trace it had been there, and was back in his own cockpit in under five minutes.

* * *

'What? It just happened again!' exclaimed Gomu, looking up from his crystal ball. From all round the field a collective muttering sounded, building to a roar as the junior observers talked to their neighbours and realised the scale of the collapse.

'Me too!' gasped Keshi.

'You as well?' asked another from behind.

Gomu and his friends got to their feet and looked around the meadow, and every direction he looked more people were standing.

'What does this mean?' asked Keshi.

'I don't know,' replied Gomu, 'but half the observers are on their feet. We need to tell the Supreme Kai!'

A distance away on a slight rise, two figures rested their backs against the trunk of a tree watching the hundreds of excited young Kai descend on their supervisor in a mob.

'I bet you anything that Vegeta was involved with whatever just happened,' said Goku, sagely.

'Oh really?' said the wrinkled, bug eyed figure of the Grand Old Kai next to him. 'What will you bet this time? A hot date?'

'Sure, if that's what you want. What will you give me if I'm right?'

'Goku, I'm not betting against you! You still owe me from the first time we met! I never got that kiss from that Earth woman you promised me.'

'Oh, is that so?' said Goku, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment.

'With interest, that payment has now grown from a kiss to second base!'

'Heh!' Goku tittered nervously. 'I guess we'd better get that debt squared away before anymore interest adds up!'

'Finally!' said the Grand Old Kai crossly. 'I'll be counting the minutes.'

'Uh-oh,' muttered Goku under his breath. 'Vegeta's gonna kill me.'

* * *

Vegeta made a quick escape back to the empty universe he'd dropped in from, breathing easier than he had done in days. He floated in the cockpit with his eyes closed, feeling the weightlessness of his body and soul.

And now, home.

Or…

He had to admit to himself that he was not quite weightless. A question burned inside him still, and how much was concern and how much was curiosity he couldn't say. Had that Vegeta followed through? How was the family he'd returned to? Had his return made them happier? Prevented the time travel that would rip them apart?

He stared at the console a long time. If something had gone wrong…could he fix it? He didn't know. But he was sure that if something had gone wrong and he didn't look to see, no-one would _ever_ fix it. He had to know.

Slowly he set the co-ordinates for his origin universe and selected a date, fifteen years after he left to fight Cell, after he had sent that other Vegeta back. He wanted to see that time he had been thinking about recently – if he had never gone…what would their lives be like?

His hand hovered over the jump button. He couldn't break anything with this journey, only himself.

'Toughen the fuck up,' he admonished himself.

* * *

A blue haired woman leant over a microscope in the med lab. For a second he though it was Bulma, but then she looked up, and he saw it was Bra, her beautiful face settled into the angles of full adulthood.

'Dad! I didn't think you'd be back so soon,' she said.

Vegeta felt slightly numb. 'Well, I'm back,' he said, not sure what his story should be here. It wasn't as if the truth could hurt anything now in this timeline, but the truth would be too painful for him to voice.

Bra replaced a petri dish in a tray of petri dishes, and then carried the tray to a tall glass fronted fridge. She held the unwieldy thing with ease in one hand while she opened the door with the other. She had her hair in a ponytail, and whatever she was wearing under her lab coat it wasn't as long as the coat itself, giving the impression that she was naked underneath. When she turned and came over to him he found that he had to look up at her – she was wearing stiletto heels high enough to give her a few inches on him.

She grinned and hugged him. He didn't resist it as he had used to, and she let go of him and frowned. 'Are you all right, Dad?'

'Perfect,' he said.

She didn't look convinced. 'Well, you look like you've had the snot beaten out of you. Are you looking for me, or Mom?' she asked.

'Your mother.'

'She's in her office right now. I have to go up and check on the kids.'

Vegeta's insides clenched with an indescribable sensation. Kids? _Grandchildren._

'Seriously Dad, are you okay? You're looking…' She laid her hands on his shoulders and peered into his face. 'You look _different,_ Dad! And what are you wearing?'

'Clothes. Who cares? How is your training going lately?' he said, abruptly deflecting the subject from himself.

'Training?' she squawked. 'Dad, don't start that again!'

'What again?'

'You said that if I won the World Martial Arts Tournament you'd stop pushing me to fight. It's been years, leave me alone!'

Vegeta nodded, disappointed. She was no warrior. She'd turned out to be too much her mother's daughter after all.

'What are you working on here?' he nodded at the microscope.

'Still that regeneration technology. It's going well though. The main research lab is going to start trials next month.'

'Oh. Good.'

She swept around him, pulling off her lab coat and revealing that she had inherited a similar fashion sense as her mother and grandmother. The girl lacked no confidence in her body, that was for sure.

'See you at dinner, Dad!'

Feeling dazed he made his way to the offices at the end of the corridor and was not surprised to sense Bulma in the office that had once been her father's. The old man must be long dead by now.

When he opened the door his heart eased at the look of delight on the Woman's face.

'You're back early!' she said, hopping up from the desk. 'Did everything go well on Planet Frutti-tsu?'

Vegeta grunted non-committally as he took in the sight of her. Even though she was only a little younger than the Bulma that had given him the N-clippers she looked quite a bit younger. Maybe it was happiness. Maybe it was plastic surgery like her air-headed mother had indulged in. Maybe it was just that she had dyed her hair blue. He could see her grey roots and it made him slightly sad that she felt she had to hide her age.

As she got closer she slowed and pushed her glasses up her nose.

'Someone's had a go at you obviously,' she said. 'You're a mess!' She sighed and came closer, putting her arms round his neck and then froze, her face going slack with shock.

Vegeta wasn't sure what to say. His decision to come here seemed silly now. Obviously everything was fine. The other him had followed through.

'You're not my Vegeta, are you?' she said slowly, dropping her arms and stepping back.

He shook his head.

'What are you doing here?' she said, a hint of fear in her voice.

'I came to make sure that...your Vegeta did his job.'

She looked confused, and took another nervous step back. 'So…you're the one that sent him back?' Her eyes darted to the phone on her desk.

He nodded, wondering what the other one had told her. 'Do not fear me, Woman.'

'You sent my husband back to me fifteen years older and half-dead!'

'Well he _did_ insist on fighting me. I doubt he'd begrudge me now. Where is he?'

She took a few moments trying to decide what to say. He could guess what she was battling with – her brain telling her to be cautious and her eyes telling her to trust him. 'Off-world. Helping out his brother.'

'When will he be back?'

'He…he could be back in an instant if I or Bra called him!' She was still nervous of him.

He shook his head. 'I should go.'

'You don't want to talk to him?'

'No.' He went to turn away but she stepped forward again.

'Wait, you don't need to go,' she said, finally deciding he wasn't a danger. 'Maybe I can help you? What was the job he was supposed to do?'

'Maybe you can.' He wasn't sure he would have the courage to ask this if he hadn't already been reasonably sure of her answer. 'Tell me Bulma, are you happy?'

'Of course!'

'And is he a good husband to you?'

'Yes.' She folded her arms, flashing him a look of defiance. 'Better than ever. Better than _you_.'

He chuckled off her dig. 'He _is_ me, up the point that I sent him back. Fifteen years older and wiser might have helped our- _my_ attitude. That's why I chose to send me back at that point and not earlier.'

'So is that why you're here, to see if…you made the right decision?'

He nodded again, watching her face fill with sympathetic sadness.

'Well, I wouldn't say you were wiser in all aspects. Sometimes I think you have a death wish the way you go looking for trouble all over the universe. Each time you answer some call to arms on the other side of the galaxy I half expect that you'll get yourself killed.'

Vegeta felt a small qualm of shame when she said that. He could guess what was going through the other Vegeta's head. He thirsted for battle still, and his mate was approaching the end of her life, his children were grown…his life probably didn't seem to be worth that much any more. Would he be any different? He felt somehow he might be now…

'Well he's a fool if he doesn't treasure every moment he has with you,' he said, and she smiled.

His eyes strayed to the photographs on the wall and she followed his gaze. She walked over to them, and he followed her, unable to overcome his curiosity. There was a family portrait featuring Trunks and a laughing, voluptuous, red-haired woman. They both held a baby each, dressed in overdone frocks, one with a red fuzz of hair, one with purple.

'The boy finally grew up,' he stated.

'Yes,' she smiled. 'Finally. That's Pastta. They're not married. Not yet anyway. She's the daughter of Ms Pizza, Hercule Satan's old promotions agent, so you can guess who her father is. She took over her mother's fight promotions business, which is how she met Trunks. She set up a charity exhibition fight between him and Satan. Their twin girls Slip and Nika came along, oh, slightly less than a year later. The rest is history, as they say.'

Vegeta grunted, amused that it sounded like his son had accidentally fallen into parenthood just as he had.

Largest of all was a formal wedding photo on the steps of a church or temple. Bra was centre stage in a white dress, and next to her, grinning in stunned happiness, was Goten.

'Hnn. So that happened then,' he said. On the other side of Bra was himself, scowling and stuffed in a morning suit no less (he had never worn such a thing ever before, and could only assume that Bra had forced him to wear it). Either side of him and Goten were Bulma and Chichi in competing dresses, then Trunks and Gohan also in morning suits, and Pan and Marron in pale yellow bridesmaids dresses.

'It almost didn't.'

Suddenly he noticed the swelling under the front of Bra's dress. He didn't care much about Earthling customs, but still, he didn't think his daughter would be _that_ girl.

'I'm not sure I've ever seen something funnier than your efforts to match-make those two,' said Bulma.

' _What?_ ' he choked.

'Yes, well, I was surprised also,' she said, laughing. 'When you got back from your travels you started training Bra again, but she wasn't that into it, especially after she started doing university papers. You made a deal with her that she could stop training once she won the World Martial Arts Tournament. Then, about eight years ago Bra and her boyfriend of the time announced their engagement, and you rather objected. You scared the poor boy so much he ended up taking a job on another continent and Bra was going to join him – I thought she was never going to forgive you.' She laughed at the memory.

'But you waged quite a crafty campaign! You suddenly took an interest in Goten's life, and he didn't know what hit him. I couldn't figure out at first why you suddenly embarked on this mission to get Goten to turn his fortunes around. Then you lured Bra and her beau back with such a show of contrition that even _I_ was almost taken in. Bra wouldn't train with you any more, but you promised her the wedding of her dreams if she came back and continued training for the tournament with Goten as her sensei, which she accepted. To this day, I don't know what you threatened or bribed Goten with, but he took up training her with gusto. There was nearly two years until the next tournament…and by the time the preliminaries rolled round, the fiancé was long gone, as was Goten's girlfriend.'

'I put them together?' he said, baffled. The competition must have been truly poor. Obviously the other Vegeta had taken his advice to heart.

'You practically forced them together! After the tournament final is when the two finally became a couple, I believe.'

'Bra mentioned to me in the lab just now that she won the Martial Arts Tournament.'

'She never won!' laughed Bulma. 'You also forced Goten to enter just in case she did managed to overpower the other competitors – you didn't want her to give up fighting. She lost to Goten in the final. When Bra found out why Goten entered at the last minute she claimed a moral victory and quit fighting anyway.'

'Huh.'

'They kept it a secret for a while. They didn't know you'd been pulling the strings, and they were still afraid to tell you they were an item, until they had their little slip up. Bra held you to the promise to let her have her no-holds-barred wedding, and she went down the aisle five months pregnant.'

She pointed at another photo. It was a studio portrait of Bra and Goten holding a squinting bundle of newborn. It had black hair and blue eyes. 'Our first grandchild, Bento.' Then she pointed at another photo, this one with Bra and Goten looking a little older, with a pre-school aged Bento and another baby - a baby with a shock of black hair standing straight up from his head. 'And our fourth grandchild, Vegeta Junior.'

Vegeta felt something leap in his heart at those words, and a smug smile spread across his face. The brat even looked like him.

The phone on Bulma's desk rang, and she hurried to answer it while he looked at more pictures. There were some with other members of the Son family. Of course, marrying his daughter to one of them had only strengthened the ties between the families.

'That was Trunks,' said Bulma, hanging up. 'He and Pastta are about to bring the kids over for dinner. Bra and Goten and their boys will be there too of course.' She looked at him calculatingly. 'Stay for dinner.'

He felt a squirm of nervous alarm. 'No.'

'What's the harm?'

'What are you going to tell them? I've never met the grandchildren, I don't remember the last fifteen years.'

'We'll tell them the truth. That you're visiting from another universe and just staying for a few hours. You'll get to meet them, not just see photographs.'

'They'll bombard me with questions.'

'I'll tell them not to.'

An hour later he was showered and dressed in new clothes, and found himself in the kitchen, his adult children and their partners eyeing him nervously. Bulma had impressed on them not to ask questions, which left not a lot of scope for conversation after he was introduced to Pastta.

'I'm Goten,' the boy had said, offering his hand.

'I know just who you are,' said Vegeta, ignoring his hand. He supposed he should no longer think of him as a boy. Goten was in his forties, which made him a man by any measure, human or Saiyan. 'You have a proper job yet boy- Goten?'

Goten flushed at the tone. 'Yes. I have my own business – my own dojo in town. It was your suggestion, actually, that I open it.'

'He's a really good teacher,' said Bra.

'I bet he is,' rumbled Vegeta dangerously.

Dinner was not allowed to become an awkward affair though. Trunks's and Pastta's girls were almost three and wouldn't stay in their seats, and their parents didn't do very well at controlling them. Vegeta felt little hands under the table gripping his knees and the red haired girl Nika popped her head up between his legs demanding 'Poppa, pick me up! Up! Up! Uuuuuup!'

'No!'

'I wanna play with tha baby!' announced blue haired Slip, climbing the side of the high chair that Vegeta Junior was trapped in, and nearly toppling the whole thing before Pastta grabbed her off it. Bento engaged in a battle of wills with his mother over what food he would try, displaying a very un-Saiyan fussiness that aggrieved Vegeta greatly.

'I don't like steak! It's chewy!' he complained loudly.

'Child,' said Vegeta, having heard enough. 'You're lucky it's cooked and it's the _flesh_ of the animal and not some more grisly part. When I was your age I wouldn't be eating meat unless it was still bleeding!' Bento's eyes went round with horror.

'Meat is animals?' His eyes filled with tears.

'Dad!' objected Bra. 'As if it wasn't hard enough to get him to eat already!'

Squeals, cries and laughter filled the kitchen, and Vegeta fell into a stunned stupor. How did anyone survive this chaos? Perhaps _this_ was the reason the other Vegeta went looking for trouble all over the galaxy? He looked over at Bulma and she smiled at him, shaking her head and grabbing the tablecloth to stop Slip dragging the whole thing off the table, dinner and all. Watching them, he felt out of his depth. He didn't know how to be anyone's 'Poppa'. He still hadn't finished being a father.

Still, watching this pandemonium around him (and nursing a headache that was growing by the minute) he was struck by the arc his life had taken, and how much further the other Vegeta's life had come. A prince destined to be the greatest ruler his planet had ever known, only to lose everything and everyone. His life had been reduced to warfare, violence and the politics of survival, until the only thing that got him up in the morning was the hope that he would become strong enough to carry out his revenge on Frieza.

And then he'd slowly, slowly, earned back nearly everything that had been taken from him.

Now he sat in this Vegeta's place and saw that though he wasn't the ruler of this planet, he was respected and feared, which was all he wanted. He was the strongest warrior in the galaxy and quite possibly the whole universe. And now he sat at the head of a family that was perhaps the most influential in the world, and certainly one of the richest. He had a wife that was the marvel of every universe, and he was the patriarch of a brood of mixed breeds, calling him Poppa and climbing all over him.

And one day, perhaps even this last part would be his too?

He growled menacingly at Slip as she used his t-shirt sleeve to pull herself into his lap. She just giggled. The chunky one-year-old Vegeta Junior banged his spoon against the tray of his high chair over and over, shouting 'Dadadadadadada!' at him, until with a crash, the babe snapped the whole tray off and it fell to the floor. The kid's serious scowl flew from his face and was replaced by look of heartbroken tragedy as his bowl of beans splattered across the tiles. 'Nooo!'

Vegeta threw back his head and laughed. His father's line was not dead, and neither was the name. Then again, King Vegeta would probably rise up out of the grave if he knew that his line and name lived on through a demi-Saiyan living in this peace-loving backwater.

Suddenly a sharp pain struck him in the cheek, and he whipped his head around to face his attacker. Vegeta Junior was scowling again, in outrage. He had throw his spoon at Vegeta; it had hit him hard and ricocheted into the cabinet across the other side of the kitchen, embedding in the wood.

'Junior,' gasped Bra. 'That wasn't very nice!'

Vegeta started laughing again. Who cared what his father would think? King Vegeta was in Hell - a dead and almost forgotten fool, for all his pride. This was _his_ life.

* * *

Later that evening, after all the children and grandchildren were gone, Bulma walked him out towards where he'd hidden the time machine under the trees near the house.

'Is this the last time we'll see you?' she asked.

'Yes,' he told her. 'With any luck, this is my last jump.' Suddenly he felt enormously weary and desperate to get home. No more delays.

'Should I tell Vegeta you were here?'

'If you want to.'

He uncloaked the machine.

'Well, goodbye then,' she said, and stood there looking awkward.

Vegeta hesitated before making up his mind to embrace her, but the words he had been about to say died on his lips. He would not tell her that he'd miss her forever. It would only make her sad.

_He turned and jumped into the cockpit and settled himself in. Bulma took a few steps back from the machine, out of the blast radius of the hoverjets, still smiling. He could not feel too sad about this parting when she was so happy._

He turned to jump into the cockpit, but she suddenly grabbed his arm. 'Oh,' she gasped. 'I almost forgot!'

'What?' he asked.

'I think it might be important!' He didn't like the look of the worried frown on her face. 'Come with me!'

_Then trembling slightly with anticipation he selected the universe and the time. He decided that three minutes after he left would be ideal. Three minutes would let Sixteen and Korin and Oolong settle down and meet Trunks, and it would also make for a more dramatic entrance._

She led him back to the underground lab, heading for her office, and then to a flat filing cabinet for blueprints.

_Bulma waved as the hatch closed again, and he guided the machine into the air, taking one last look at the modern architecture, manicured greens and luxurious amenities of the Capsule Compound. He was sure he'd miss it some day, but after fifteen years, even having a bed to sleep in was a novelty he didn't take for granted any more. He'd miss this Bra, this Trunks, and this Bulma for the rest of his life, but without sadness, knowing that they were happy._

She rifled through a draw. He spied schematics for the time machine in there.

_His hand hovered over the jump button, while he grinned - he couldn't wait to see his Woman's face when he showed up again._

'What do you make of this?' she said, handing him a sheet of paper with a handwritten note on it. 'We found it in the time machine the day after you returned. When I went out there to disassemble it this was on the dashboard. But we had no idea how it got there, and it obviously wasn't meant for us.'

_He pressed down on the jump button, and outside the world went black..._

Vegeta read the words on the page, first in confusion, and then with astonishment.

'I didn't write it, but it's my handwriting, my signature,' she said. 'Is it for you?'

Vegeta nodded and felt cold sweat break out all over his body. Somehow it _was_ for him, and if he hadn't decided to come back to this universe he'd never have seen it. He'd never have gotten the warning. Bulma had helped him slip the noose again!

'I would have been killed,' he said, feeling breathless and ill. 'This warning has been waiting here for me for fifteen years.' But he did not feel relieved. A lingering tingle of alarm made him read the note more closely, thinking through the implications of what was written., and when they hit him, it was like five hundred times Earth's gravity.

'NO!'

'What is it?' cried Bulma.

Vegeta felt the room dimming around him. He tried to sit down on the sofa behind him and missed, and ended up slumping to the floor, the note slipping from his fingers.

'What did you do?' he moaned.

He was never going to get back! Did they not realise what they had done?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: So the stuff in italics is what happened in the first iteration of time. As in Vegeta and whoever, did these things the first time round, but after their later actions altered things in the current universe (like Vegeta planting the NC-11 clipper in the time machine in the first timeline where Cell bust his machine), there was a second iteration of the timeline with these differences (and the first universe is eliminated). Hold this in mind for the next chapter also.
> 
> If you can't figure out why Vegeta can't go back it's not because you've not followed it. I just haven't told you why yet.
> 
> Here's a more explicit explanation if you're still confused -
> 
> Vegeta had a three part plan that he cooked up with the older Time Patrol Bulma.
> 
> 1) Split off a universe so he could send another version of himself back to the day he left his family. To do so he has to disengage his own N-clipper, or else he won't create a new branch, he will divert time, resulting in a personal paradox. He succeeded in installing NC-10 and sending the other Vegeta home, and then re-engages the N-clipper on his own machine before going any further. This causes the first collapse observed by the Kai, as now Bulma and Trunks no longer set off through time looking for Vegeta.
> 
> 2) Go back to the timeline where he first fought Cell and got his time machine fried and, on the night before the younger version of himself takes the newly repaired time machine off to flail around the multiverse looking for a way home, install the NC-11 clipper into the repaired machine. This alters his own past - instead of splitting off a new branch with every jump for fifteen years, the N-clipper that he didn't even know about diverts each universe. This causes the second, larger collapse of universes that the Kai observe.
> 
> 3) Remove the NC-11 clipper from his personal history before he and Bulma unwittingly find it and by their reactions, do something that would prevent Vegeta from putting NC-11 in the machine in the first place. This can't be allowed to happen as it would cause a massive paradox and probably Vegeta would cease to exist.
> 
> BUT - after altering his personal history by placing the NC-11 clipper in the machine at step 2, there is a second iteration of time. Everything appears to happen the same way up till the point when Vegeta goes to place the NC-10 clipper in the machine at step 1. He finds that NC-11 is already in there and realises that this is the second time through. It's almost a paradox in the second iteration, but he has been warned about this likelihood by Time Patrol Bulma, and as long as he does nothing that would prevent him carrying out part 2 of the plan, then the paradox will be avoided. However, it makes him very nervous.
> 
> In my story the first iteration of time, the one which is later obliterated by altered events earlier on, is indicated by italics when it deviates from the second iteration. Remember this when reading the next chapter.
> 
> Time travel...no one said it was easy.


	43. The Unmade Universe, Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors Note: Okay then, buckle up kids, this could be a bumpy ride!

_Bulma eyed her son, who she suddenly appreciated had grown up in the time he'd been away. It had been only minutes since he returned before they were already butting heads._

' _Good idea Trunks,' said Korin, breaking the tension between mother and son. 'Come downstairs, I'll put the kettle on while we fill you in.'_

' _You can tell us what you were doing while you were gone,' said Oolong. 'And where you got four inches and forty pounds of muscle from.'_

_Trunks laughed, despite himself. As they headed back to the entrance to the lab they passed the large, gunmetal grey time machine._

' _This is the one you built Mom? In_ three _months?' Trunks said, his voice incredulous._

_Bulma smiled with poorly suppressed pride. 'It's amazing what the proper motivation will do, as well as a grumpy Saiyan and a couple of dedicated friends to help with the catering!'_

_As they all continued onwards she paused to look back at the spot in the sky Vegeta had disappeared from._

' _Thank you,' she whispered. She'd forgotten to tell him that in her determination to tell him the other thing. 'Thank you for helping me bring my son back.'_

_And then she screamed in astonishment and sudden hope as the time machine reappeared right in the spot she was watching. She heard the questions of Trunks, Korin and Oolong behind her, but she ignored them, running through the grass again, back to where the machine was lowering to the ground. It was the black machine…oh god, was it him? Was he back to stay?_

_The hatch popped and Vegeta leapt to the ground in one smooth movement, landing in front of her, and her questions were answered the moment she saw the wide grin on his face._

' _Yes!' she cried in triumph. 'Vegeta!'_

_She launched herself across the remaining few yards between them, and his arms were already wide to catch her…_

_And then it all stopped._

_Bulma felt hands on her shoulders at the same instant she found herself and Vegeta surrounded by a sea of purple, blue and pink skinned people. They all faced her and Vegeta, hands on the shoulders of the people in front, until those closest to them touched her and the Saiyan. She couldn't move, and saw in Vegeta's face the same realisation. He was just inches from her, but she couldn't get to him._

_Vegeta roared in defiance, his eyes going wide and wild with outrage._

' _Now,' said a voice to her side._

_Vegeta's shout faded to a gasp, and his eyes rolled back in his head. He dropped away from the hands touching him, crumpling to the ground. The crowd of pointy-eared Kaioshin vanished, all except for whoever had their hand on her right shoulder. She still couldn't move._

' _What have you done?' she screamed, unable to turn away from the limp figure of Vegeta. Unable to miss how the colour was already draining out of his face._

' _I'm sorry Bulma,' said the voice of Kibito Kai, and he really did sound sorry. Sorry and shaken. She could hear Trunks and the others shouting behind her and knew that they must also be bound by the paralysing touch of the Kai's._

' _Leave my Mom alone!' Trunks shouted. From the sound of Sixteen's grunts of effort and other people's cries of pain he was fighting back, but he was a long way behind her._

' _No! What have you done to Vegeta!' she cried, not wanting her suspicion to be true, wanting the Kai to tell her something different than what her eyes were._

' _We couldn't let you have him back,' said the Kai. 'His fate has already been decided. But they agreed to spare you. I just need to take this.' He reached over her other shoulder with his free hand and touched two fingers to her forehead._

_Bulma gasped as a feeling akin to monster-sized headrush came over her, but with it came a massive simultaneous recollection of everything she knew about physics, chemistry, engineering, electronics and maths. She fell to her knees, and Kibito Kai left her go. For a little while she didn't wasn't aware of anything but the mess inside her head – a sickening storm that had her clutching her temples as the knowledge boiled and frothed and evaporated away. And then it was over, and her mind felt very clean and very still._

_She came back to herself on her hands and knees, staring at the dirt below her._

' _Mom!' said Trunks, at her side in the next moment. 'What just happened?'_

_Bulma knelt and looked behind her, but the Kai were all gone. Korin and Sixteen were running back to her, their eyes sliding from her to what was behind her. Bulma started crying as she followed their horror-struck gaze, already knowing what she was about to see, but she had to look, because maybe, just maybe, it wasn't true…_

_Vegeta lay on his back, his limbs loose and sprawling._

' _No!'_

_His chest was still, his lips already turning grey, his skin ashen._

' _NO!'_

_His eyes still open and staring up at nothing._

' _NO! VEGETA!' she screamed like a wild thing. 'GET UP!' She flung herself forwards, grabbing him by the lapels of the unfamiliar jacket he wore, and attempted to haul him up, shaking him where he lay. His body was obscenely heavy and floppy..._

' _Vegeta is dead,' said Sixteen's flat voice, and even though its inflection was sad, Bulma wanted to tear his face off for saying the words._

' _Oh Bulma, I'm so sorry love,' said Korin, and she heard the sounds of Trunks and even Oolong crying._

_She wanted to tell them to shut up. Vegeta's handsome face was right before her – there was no way he could be dead when she loved him and he'd come back for her! There was just no way!_

_Korin reached down and gently closed his eyelids._

_Bulma felt a scream coming on, a sound so awful that it caught in her throat and left her mute, her mouth open in a grimace as she looked towards a heaven she hated. Never before, never had anything ever felt like this, not this bad! She pulled in a breath to curse the Kaioshin, and then finally her scream came out, rising from somewhere South of her navel with the sound like a soul being torn in two._

_She felt hands pulling at her again, pulling her away from him. It might be too late now, but she wouldn't let go of Vegeta this time. The hands were insistent though, uncurling her fists from his jacket, dragging her back. She couldn't see Vegeta anymore; her eyes were too blurred._

' _Mom! Please stop!'_

_Her cries tumbled out of her, echoing her heart – an endless, sobbing litany of denial. She felt herself borne up and away._

* * *

_Sometime later she surfaced from a deep pool of insensibility to find herself lying in the dark on her bed. She wasn't sure if she'd just been unaware of her surroundings or if she'd actually been unconscious for a time, but she found she was being tugged back from madness by the realisation that she owned a time machine. She would fix this shit._

_The bedroom door was open, spilling light in from the lounge. As she sat up she heard something rustle under the pillow. She put her hand under it and pulled out a folded piece of paper. With dull eyes she read his words, not surprised by it's contents, then kissed it, and brought it with her as she went out into the lounge._

' _Bulma,' said Oolong as she came in. And then he just stared at her, mouth open, unable to muster anything more._

' _Where are the others?' she asked, her voice cracked and shaky._

' _I think they're in the hangar,' he said, jumping to his trotters as she swept past him and into the lab._

_In the hangar Korin, Sixteen and Trunks sat talking in low voices, but they all turned when she strode in. She saw with approval that they had moved the time machine into the hangar._

' _Good,' she said. 'We need to guard the time machine; the Kai will be back to take it.'_

' _Mom,' said Trunks, coming over to her. He looked terrible. 'Are you all right?'_

' _No,' she replied briskly. 'But I have a job to do. I'm not going to let things sit like this when I can change it.'_

_Trunks stared at her, but Korin spoke up._

' _Bulma, you don't mean you intend to try and turn back time do you?'_

' _Of course I do!' she yelled. 'What else is a time machine for?'_

_Then she spied a figure lying on the mattress covered in a sheet. She walked around the others and knelt down to pull the sheet back from his face. He looked so wrong lying so still. No one was filled with more life force than Vegeta. Death did not suit him. There were shadows of dark bruises on one side of his jaw, a purple scratch on one cheek and a tear in the corner of one nostril. His grey leather jacket looked new and modern. She didn't know what he'd done or how long he'd been away before deciding to return to her, but he had been so happy to be back for those few seconds before the Kai took him._

' _I won't let this happen,' she said to him softly, and stroked a finger down his cool cheek. 'I promise you!'_

 _She got up and tossed the letter Vegeta had written at Trunks, then went to grab the step ladder to climb to the cockpit. Korin dogged her steps, scolding her to sit and think and talk about what she was doing. She ignored him and climbed the steps, but she knew she was in trouble as she stared at the sealed hatch. How did she get in? How did she not_ know _how to get in? She built the damn thing!_

' _Mom, wait!' said Trunks, rushing up the steps to her, pressing the letter in to Korin's hands as he went. He was crying, and she turned her face so she didn't have to see the pity he was regarding her with._

' _Trunks, how do I get in to this thing?'_

_He looked at her like she was mad. 'You left this in the cockpit,' he said as he took a remote out of his pocket and pressed a button. Of course, how could she have forgotten? She took the remote from him and climbed inside, looking around at the dashboard._

' _Oh my God!' she whispered. There were dials, screens and buttons everywhere. She didn't have the faintest idea what was what. The only bits that made sense to her was the switch marked POWER and the big red button marked JUMP. 'Oh my God, he took it all!' she cried louder._

' _Who?' asked Trunks. 'What did he take?'_

_Bulma felt tears of fear on their way, but she wailed back at him 'My knowledge! All my technical knowledge! He excised my genius!'_

' _I don't understand.'_

' _The Supreme Kai has followed through on his threat to stop Bulma travelling through time, by removing those parts of her that enable her to build time machines,' said Sixteen sadly from below. He floated up from the ground until he drew level with her in the cockpit._

' _How am I going to do it now?' she begged him through her tears. She could feel Trunks's horror radiating off him, and it made her feel like a freak. She was not herself anymore - she was a cripple, a victim!_

' _What are you trying to achieve?' Sixteen asked. 'Tell us so we can help.'_

' _But I can't even pilot the machine anymore!' she said._

' _I can though Mom,' said Trunks. 'It looks just like the one I used.'_

_She looked back and forth between the two, and the flame of hope that had been guttering burst back to life. 'Okay.'_

_Oolong brought a late lunch through, which Bulma ignored while they discussed what she planned to do, sitting in a circle on the hangar floor._

' _We just have to stop him turning up where he did. The Kai laid a trap where they knew he would show up. If he returns to a different spot, they won't be prepared.'_

' _So we jump back in time to tell him that before he leaves?' asked Trunks._

' _No,' said Bulma. 'There's something inside the time machine now that…' Oh man, it was hard to even find the words now to talk about these concepts! Her mind felt soft and flabby and slow, as if she'd been driving a million-zeni super car and now was trying to put her foot down in a seven-seater family wagon._

' _The N-clipper,' prompted Sixteen._

' _Yes, the N-clipper changes time instead of making a new…'_

' _Timeline.' Sixteen looked at her in sympathy._

' _Tell them why we can't go back along our own timeline Sixteen,' she said, giving up the reins for now. How glad she was that he had been there all along, and that he'd been paying attention!_

' _Because travelling into the past of our own timeline, and then altering it in a way that would stop us from having a reason to then travel into the past would result in a paradox. The time traveller would cease to be, and the events would remain unchanged.'_

_Trunks frowned. 'You mean if we go back to just before Vegeta leaves to tell him to change where he arrives, and that results in him not being killed, that then we have no reason to go back in time to tell him to do that? And so we don't do it…and that's a paradox?' he asked, getting it clear in his head._

' _Yes,' said Bulma, feeling the concepts and jargon settling back into her brain a little. 'And we'll end ourselves if we try.'_

' _What about without the clipper thingy? Would that work?'_

' _No,' said Sixteen. 'That would merely spilt the timelines. It would change nothing for us, and only create another universe in which Vegeta was warned. And I believe that splitting the timelines is the very thing that the Kai are trying to prevent.'_

' _I don't want to split any more universes,' said Bulma._

' _So how are you planning on warning him then Missy?' asked Korin._

' _In a different universe. I don't know where he's been since leaving here and returning, but I do know at least one time, place and universe where he_ had _to go.' She pulled the remote out of her pocket and looked at its confusing array of buttons and blank LCD display doubtfully. 'That is, if I can remember how the hell to get the information off this remote,' she added glumly._

' _Will that work?' asked Trunks. With a pang she saw that he was directing his question to Sixteen, not her. Perhaps that was best. Bulma thought hard and still couldn't say she was sure. It seemed like the ends of her thoughts pulled free from her mind before she was finished thinking them all the way through. It made sense to_ her _. But maybe she wasn't the best judge right now?_

' _I know of no reason why it should not,' replied Sixteen. 'But I do not know much about these things.'_

_Bulma held her breath, waiting for someone to tell her it was too risky, that she shouldn't try, but no-one did. Eventually Trunks asked 'Won't they still come after him? Even if he lands in a different place, at a different time? There's nothing to stop these Kaioshin pulling the same trick at any time. From what Korin and Sixteen told me they watch from heaven. Won't they just wait until he's settled in one spot and jump him then?'_

_Silence followed his words as they all realised he was right. Bulma felt more tears fall silently down her cheeks and she blinked them away. 'I'll tell him it's not safe to come back at all,' she said, feeling her heart break all over again. He would just have to stay away forever. Stay with his other-universe family. Wasn't that what he always should have done anyway? She'd been prepared for that. She could live with that, but she couldn't live with Vegeta dying because he'd come back for her._

' _What happens to us?' asked Oolong nervously. 'If you change what happens in the past, will we remember what happened now, and that it changed?'_

' _No,' replied Sixteen. 'The timeline will be diverted along a new course. We will have no memory that this happened, or that it is not the original course of events.'_

_Oolong looked worried, but Bulma closed her eyes and nodded, thankful for Sixteen's confirmation that what she was thinking was right. It was what she wanted -this course of events to never happen._

' _All right then,' said Korin. 'Looks like you have a plan of action, but now you have to figure out how to pull it off.'_

_Between her own faulty recollection, Trunks's intuition with his mother's designs, and Sixteen's memories of what he'd seen her and Vegeta say and do, they figured out how to upload the co-ordinates for Vegeta's originating universe onto the time machine's scheduler. Trunks gave her a rundown on how her own machine operated, which sparked muddy memories for her, although she felt quite lost and overwhelmed by the controls still._

_Trunks saw her confusion. 'I'm not letting you go back by yourself,' he told her in no uncertain terms._

' _But Trunks, it's dangerous!'_

' _And what would I do if you never came back, hey? I'm not risking that. We're sticking together Mom._ You _only just got_ me _back! And Sixteen told me what happened to Vegeta and his family.'_

_Bulma glanced at Sixteen. Apparently he knew more than she did. 'Okay. We'll stick together.'_

_She wondered how they would tell Vegeta, or when. Her heart quailed from telling him to stay away. Would he listen to her? What if, when she saw him…she just wouldn't want to leave him again?_

_When Korin passed the letter from Vegeta back to her she decided on the coward's way out. She would leave her own note in his time machine for him to find, just as they had done for Trunks. Just as he had done for her. She saw the pad of paper and pen were still on the small, broken bench along the wall next to the note they had written for Trunks that she had forgotten to take. She was picking them up to take to the machine when Sixteen shouted a warning from where he stood in front of the machine._

' _Bulma, the Kai is here!'_

_Heart pounding, she followed his gaze up to the lip of the hangar. Kibito Kai was hesitating on the edge of the garden. She used the moment to rush to Sixteen's side. Trunks joined her, his face anxious._

' _Is this him? The one that's been hunting Vegeta and you?' he asked._

' _Yes,' she said._

_With a silent snarl, Trunks erupted into golden flame and stepped forward, but Korin was the one who spoke._

' _Leave the poor woman alone!' he barked, striding forward and shaking his staff up at the Kai. 'Have you not done enough to torment her?'_

' _I'm sorry!' shouted the Kai._

 _This was so unexpected that Bulma actually laughed._ 'Sorry?'

' _If you touch my Mom I'll kill you!" said Trunks._

' _I'm not going to touch Bulma. Or you Trunks, or you Master Korin, or Oolong or Sixteen.' He glared at them all, anger burning in his face, but something else too. Bulma watched his face flicker with uncomfortable emotions, but she didn't have any sympathy left for the being. 'I've come to apologize,' he said in the end, and flushed red at the words._

' _An apology won't make it better,' she heard herself say. She suddenly felt bizarre, as if she was floating two inches outside her own body, displaced by her own anger that filled her to the brim._

' _You don't even know what I'm apologizing for yet,' said the Kai._

' _Do you want me to see him off Mom?' whispered Trunks in her ear._

' _No,' she said, still curiously detached from her body. 'Let us hear what he has to say first.' To the Kai she called 'Tell us then, what_ else _you have done!'_

' _It's what Vegeta has done,' he said. 'We don't know how, but he's done something…Earlier, when we came to take him away, we hadn't had a chance to realise what had happened. After he left here about half of the thousands of universes that we knew about ceased to be.'_

' _Half?' she replied. Perhaps Vegeta had not overstated his guilt after all. 'That's right - he said he wanted to clean up his mess. It should have made you Kai_ pleased _…but you killed him anyway!'_

' _I know. Didn't I say that it's hard to hate Vegeta because no matter what he's ruined, he'll turn around with some redeeming heroic act?' His was face twisted up in regret. He took a step out over the hangar, but the second he did so both Sixteen and Trunks tensed to leap at him. The Kai stopped awkwardly in mid air._

' _Bulma, forgive me,' he said softly._

' _NO!' she screamed. 'Give me Vegeta back and maybe one day I'll forgive you!'_

' _What's done is done. Perhaps if it were solely up to me…but it isn't. Now that he is in the Next World it is safer that he remain there.'_

' _Bring him back!' she screamed. 'You have the power!'_

' _You're wrong!' he said. 'The path from life to the Next World is a river that only flows one way, and only King Yamma and the one that I serve have the power to reverse it. Or magic like the Namekian Dragonballs which can access that power, but there is nothing like that left in this universe. The other Kai won't support me in a petition to King Yamma.'_

' _I don't care how you do it, just do it! Or fuck off and never ask for forgiveness from me again!'_

' _You got your son back, despite the cost to the unity of the universe. Be content with that!'_

' _There was no cost!' she hissed at him. 'We were careful, and we spawned_ no _new universes. And still you killed Vegeta!'_

' _That's impossible,' said the Kai. 'Only our Time Patrol machines can move through time without causing damage.'_

' _Why?' she mocked. 'Because they have N-clippers? Guess what buddy, so does ours!'_

_The Kai's face went blank with shock. 'So that's how he did it.' His gaze flicked to the machine, and Bulma felt herself come back into her body with a snap of cold fear. She felt no surprise at his next words. 'I need to take the time machine with me.'_

' _No,' said Sixteen and Bulma in unison. 'Get lost Kai,' added Bulma._

_Kibito Kai face turned furious. 'You have your son back, and you have your life! Don't be foolish!' he yelled at her. They stared at each other, Bulma's rage boring out of her eyes to scorch him._

' _I believe the lady asked you to leave,' said Korin._

_His words broke the surface of the bubble of tension, and the Kai whipped his hands up in attack at the same moment as Bulma broke and ran to the stepladder. As she raced up the steps Sixteen plowed into the Kai's attack. Korin fell back to the other side of the hangar, and Oolong, who'd been lingering fearfully near the door, turned tail and ran. Sixteen and the Kai were moving like lightning, rolling back and forth in the air over the hangar while the crack of their kicks and punches rang out. Trunks hovered between her and the fight, looking back and forth between his mother and the furious battle. He began heading upwards towards the fight but Bulma saw him leaving and called out._

' _Trunks! Stay with me! We're leaving as soon as I've put in the date!' He leapt to the side of the cockpit, perching on the edge while she tried to figure out how to review the jump history from Vegeta's machine._

' _How do I scroll back?' she screeched, insulted to her core that she couldn't even figure out this simple task._

_An intense flash of light overhead was followed by silence. Bulma and Trunks looked but couldn't see either Sixteen or the Kai, until the Kai popped back into being right in front of the machine. He already held a blindingly bright ball of chi at the end of his arm, and his eyes were on Bulma as he threw it directly at the machine she sat in. She didn't even have time to scream before Trunks was in front of her, deflecting the blast up, out of the open hangar. He roared and was on the Kai in a flash, knocking down the Kai's defensively raised arms with one blow, his next blow driving straight into the Kai's midriff._

_Bulma saw the large, slanted eyes open wide in shock, and the Kai fell bonelessly to the floor of the hangar. This time he didn't disappear. Trunks turned in the air, panting and Bulma's heart leapt to her mouth when she saw the dark purple-red blood coating his fist._

_By the prone body of Kibito Kai, a portly, pink and bespectacled Kaioshin appeared._

' _Don't hurt me!' he squealed, and the next moment he was gone, taking Kibito Kai with him._

_Bulma blinked at her son, feeling suddenly ill._

' _Think I might have killed that guy Mom,' he said softly._

' _Sweet Kami, you'd better hope not, boy,' moaned Korin from the other side of the hangar. 'That was a Supreme Kai of the universe.'_

* * *

_Ten minutes later the co-ordinates were set, and a shaken up Bulma and Trunks were rammed side by side in the cockpit._

' _Well at least one good thing came of that,' said Bulma. 'Now we know that if Vegeta just holds off his return until after the Kai realise the good he has done…they'll leave him alone…perhaps. He could come back here.'_

_Trunks nodded and then lost his composure. 'Ha!' he huffed, halfway between laughing and weeping. 'One good thing? Mom, I killed a god!'_

_She grabbed him by the chin and pulled his face around to look her in the eye. 'When this is done Trunks, this universe will be unmade. Whether Vegeta stays away forever or sets his return time differently, this timeline will be rewritten! This mess that we're living now will be washed away, and so will the blood on your hands.'_

_Trunks moaned, and Bulma realised she shouldn't have used such phrasing when the blood had so literally and recently been on Trunks's hands._

' _Come on. The sooner we do this, the sooner we can make this unhappen.'_

_Trunks dropped the hatch, guided them up into the sky, and backed off to the edge of the Compound. They both held their binoculars ready._

' _Now?' he asked._

_She nodded, flipped the cloaking device on, and hit the jump button. The light faded outside the machine, coming back up on a bright sunny day at a whole different Capsule Compound. There were new buildings and a new house. Part of the golf course was gone to make way for a large featureless dome structure._

' _He's up ahead,' said Trunks excitedly. 'You were right, he must've picked almost this exact minute!'_

_They raised their binoculars to watch as the black time machine lowered slowly to the garden beside the hangar doors. She noticed a tiny figure in a lab coat already waiting below, hands on hips. It was a bit hard to make out through the binoculars, but the other Bulma's face did not look happy._

_The machine landed and the hatch opened, but Vegeta did not so much jump out as roll off the edge of the cockpit and fall heavily to the ground. Trunks and Bulma both gasped in shock, and the Bulma waiting for him had a similar reaction, running to his side and yelling into a phone for help. Even from where they were they could see the blood and filth that covered Vegeta, and it was obvious he was in a bad way._

' _What the fuck happened to him?' muttered Bulma, earning a censorious look from her son. 'Sorry Trunks. Your Mom never swears, I promise.'_

_In less than a minute a blue haired woman and a dark haired man flew to the scene and after some fussing, carefully picked Vegeta up. He sagged between them as they bore him down into the lab, probably into the med lab. The other Bulma hurried after._

' _Well, you were right, he's here now. So what do we do next?' asked Trunks._

' _We fast forward to the dead of the night and plant the note,' she said. She had the pen and paper in hand, and she composed it now while Trunks did as she said. He waited for her until she was done and then took the folded piece of paper from her._

' _Put it on the dashboard?' he asked._

_She nodded. 'Just as we did for you.'_

_She watched him fly through the night, lit by a crescent moon while he jimmied the time machine's hatch with a screwdriver via the panel on the underside. He was in, out and back within a few minutes._

' _And now we check to make sure he gets it,' she told him grimly as he settled himself back next to her. They skipped to seven in the morning and the time machine was still there. Then they began the tedious job of skipping forward an hour at a time. At six o'clock in the evening the machine was gone. They backed up to five past five and waited. Soon the Bulma came up from the lab. A lab tech was with her, carrying a stepladder._

' _Oh no,' muttered Bulma as she watched the other version of herself mount the ladder. Who knew what that other version of her would make of the letter she wrote?_

' _Father has just come up too,' said Trunks. She scanned around with the binoculars and saw Vegeta, moving slowly, arm in a sling and head in bandages walking from the door of the underground lab._

_She looked back to the other Bulma who was climbing into the machine carrying a tool bag. Immediately she found the note and opened it, standing still at the top of the stepladder while she read through it. Bulma held her breath, realising she hadn't really thought about what would happen if the other woman got the note first._

_The other Bulma climbed down from the machine and marched on Vegeta, her stiff movements giving away her anger. Within a few short exchanges she and Vegeta were roaring at each other, faces red with fury and she was jabbing at his chest, chin jutting out, getting in his face. Vegeta snatched the letter from her hands and held his hand up to fend her off as he read it himself, and then the argument raged on. Bulma felt ill and ashamed watching it. It was his wife he had returned to. She didn't know why_ _he'd chosen to come back to her at some point, but in the meantime what mischief had she just caused between the couple?_

_The Bulma subsided into tears, her hands to her face and Vegeta read the note again, hooking his good arm around her shoulder to keep her there when she started walking away. Then they were talking, heads close together, then arms around each other. Bulma felt her face burning with mortification and jealousy as she watched Vegeta stroke the other Bulma's face and kiss her on the lips._

_She dropped her binoculars and closed her eyes – she'd seen enough. Perhaps Vegeta wouldn't be coming home to her after all. She felt a fool. But at least he wouldn't die._

_Trunks's silence next to her was awkward._

' _Let's go home,' she told him. 'Lets go and await whatever new reality this moment spawned.'_

* * *

Vegeta stared at the fifteen-year-old note as he slumped, ill and bloodless on the floor of the older Bulma's office. Trunks and Bulma must have come to this timeline and assumed that the Vegeta who turned up here was the same version as himself. If he'd never come here to satisfy his curiosity he'd never have gotten the letter she'd meant for him, but it would have been less cruel of a blow if he never had.

His eyes slid over the words again.

_Vegeta,_

_I know that at some point you're planning to come back to me. But first you need to know that the Kai laid a trap for you, and were waiting for your return. They killed you, right in front of me! And then Kibito Kai scrambled my brain like he promised. He came back hours later to apologise. He said that they could see now how much you'd fixed, that you had collapsed half the universes. Even so, they wouldn't bring you back or give me my genius back. He tried to take the time machine away, but Trunks stopped him, and thinks he might have killed him._

_Please, please, whatever you do, don't come back straight away! I don't know if you should even try to come back at all, but at least wait until the Kai have the chance to realise what happened and calm down. Delay your return, or don't return at all; either way, unmake this terrible mess Trunks and I are facing! I can't stand that you are dead!_

_Love from Bulma and Trunks_

Bulma squatted and picked up the note again. 'Does this not help?' she said. 'Aren't you safe if you follow the instructions here?'

'No,' he said, putting his head between his knees.

'What do you mean?' she said, beginning to sound upset. She reached out and tentatively put a hand on his shoulder in comfort. 'That you'll _die anyway?_ '

'It might be the only choice I have!' he said, another wave of faintness following those words. _No! Not this way! Not now!_

Bulma gasped. 'I don't understand! Why?'

He didn't answer her for a while, caught up in his fear and despair, but when she started to cry and shake his shoulder, saying his name, he gathered himself. _Man up_ , he told himself. _You've accepted nearly your whole life that each day might be your last. So what if it's today? So what if you know it's coming and it's not the way you hoped?_

He raised his head and said aloud 'They have accidentally set up a paradox. She didn't know…and they scrambled her brain anyway. It's not her fault.'

'Who? Your own Bulma?'

'Yes. My own.'

'How is it a paradox? Explain to me. Maybe there's a way out!'

'We have these devices in our machines that another version of you designed. N-clippers.'

'Yes, Vegeta told me, and he told me what they do. I found two in my machine when I dismantled it.'

Vegeta nodded. 'Time travel becomes much more dangerous once you have an N-clipper on board. If you jump back in a timeline and do something to alter it which then means your past self cannot or will not jump back when the time comes, it causes a paradox.'

'A paradox?' she said. 'A causality loop?'

He up looked at her shrewd face. The term was not one he'd heard yet, but it was quite descriptive of the situation.

'Yes.'

'I've put some thought into the theory of time travel over the years, based on what Vegeta told me of the time patrol. I haven't had any more practical experience though, since I dismantled our time machine.'

'Well I can tell you that a person who triggers a paradox has the practical experience of ceasing to exist without a trace.'

She looked appalled. 'Are you sure this is what has happened here though?' she asked, holding up the note again.

'Fairly sure,' he said. 'I was about to leave here and head straight back home. It looks like the first time through…time…'

'The first pass of the loop?'

'Yes, the first pass of the loop, I went straight home, walked straight into a trap and was killed. Bulma and the boy thought they could stop that happening by warning me before I left so that I would avoid that trap. They must have known well enough not to try and change the past of their own timeline, but thought that it would not matter if they changed the past in another timeline…This one.'

'Oh. But it does, doesn't it? I imagine that the causality loop transcends timelines. It follows personal histories.'

He nodded. 'If I change the time that I return to them, according to this note I hold here, I will save myself, but then there would be no reason for them to come back and leave the note – a paradox. If I never return they will also have no reason to leave the note – a paradox. Either I, or Bulma and Trunks, or possibly all of us…'

No, it was unthinkable. Possibly all of them would cease!

'And the third choice is…?'

'Go back as if I'd never found the note. Walk straight into the trap as if I didn't know. No universes diverted, no paradox spawned. She and her children live on.'

Bulma fell back from him, sinking to the carpet, horror in her eyes. 'No! No! There has to be some other way! You can't _die_ like some lamb to the slaughter!'

He looked away from her, confused by the terrible storm of feelings her reaction provoked. For a long time they sat in silence, pouring over their thoughts. He didn't want to die, but he would much rather that than consign himself or his Woman and son to the unknown state of non-existence. What would happen to their souls?

'There must be something I can do to help,' Bulma fretted. 'Something! If we could just stop her writing the note…but then we wouldn't even know that this had happened! Another loop!'

A penny dropped into the pool of Vegeta's mind, spreading ripples of hope at her words. He looked hard at Bulma, not seeing her face. He was following another loop in his mind, through its first and second iteration.

'There is something you can do,' he said. He picked up the note. 'Can you forge this letter?'

She frowned and took it off him. 'Sure.' And then understanding lit her face. 'You'll replace the first note with this one?'

'Yes.'

'And the second iteration of the loop, there will be no note to replace, but you will plant it anyway?'

'Yes. Will that work?'

She thought hard. 'I don't see why not. There's only one way for you to find out for sure though, isn't there?'

She got up and rifled her desk for a pen and some appropriate paper.

_Sitting down, she carefully copied the letter. When she was done she held up both versions – one on old, slightly yellowed paper, and the other clean and fresh. The forgery was a close match of the original._

Sitting down, she carefully copied the letter. When she was done she held up both versions – one on old, slightly yellowed paper, and the other clean and fresh, and she laughed at what she saw. The forgery was an _exact_ match of the original.

'So far so good,' she said.

Vegeta's chest burned as the spark of hope ignited into a fire inside him. He wanted to live. He wanted them all to live – together. This was a risk, and he wasn't just risking himself, he might be risking them too. But his ever-after was so close he could taste it. He'd risk it…

'The gods keep us safe,' he whispered. 'You own me you fuckers!' And then he spoke aloud to Bulma. 'Now, what day and time did you say you found this note?'

* * *

More sleep.

As impatient as he was to see this through, his extra long day was catching up to him. While Bulma went to find him a pair of powerful binoculars or perhaps a telescope, he took the opportunity to lay on the leather button-down couch in her office.

Several hours later he woke with a start in the dark. He had dreamt of her face, just for an instant, bent over him as he lay on the ground, her face distraught.

He sought out Bulma who was in the kitchen of the house.

'Stake-out provisions,' she said, smiling as she handed over a carrier bag loaded with tupperware and a thermos. How strange it was that the younger Bulma had worked so long to help him reunite with this woman, and now she was cheerfully aiding him on his way back the to younger.

It was just after midnight when he climbed at last into his time machine.

Just before he jumped to up to the cockpit Bulma planted a kiss in his lips and stepped back, grinning cheekily at him. She winked.

'If my husband knew I was kissing a younger man…' she joked.

He snorted. 'Idiot. And I'm probably still older than you.'

'Aw! How disappointing.' Her face turned serious. 'Good luck getting back to her,' she said. 'I'm praying that it works out for you.'

He searched her face and saw she was anxious for him, but not sad in the slightest. He knew he'd miss her and his old family forever, but he would no longer feel bad about it now that he knew they were happy and safe with another him. She waved as he piloted the machine into the air.

'Time to roll the dice,' he told himself, cloaking the machine and bringing up the next jump in the scheduler.

Outside the hatch, the light came up on a dusky summer evening at the Capsule Compound. The black time machine sat on the lawn near the hangar. It was the evening that the other Vegeta had returned to. He was betting that Bulma and Trunks would have waited until the dead of the night to plant their note. The older Bulma had not given him binoculars in the end, but a small night-vision surveillance camera, and he had to set it up before the others caught him.

Fast-forwarding another half an hour to full dark, he scanned for active energies and found several, including himself, all in the house. Good enough. He uncloaked the machine and transmitted himself right underneath the other machine, into its shadow. He popped its hatch, and was in, out and back in his own machine in a handful of seconds; the camera installed inconspicuously along side the headrest of the seat.

He took his own machine way back from the compound, setting it down on the edge of the parkland by the river, and then turned on the receiver with its little screen attached. He turned the audio up to maximum too, in case he nodded off.

Now there was just waiting and watching.

By 11pm he had polished off the 'stake-out provisions' (half a dozen chicken and stuffing sandwiches, fruit salad, yoghurt and a packet of chocolate coated dinosaur cookies) out of sheer boredom, then nodded off again, awaking guiltily around 2am to see that there was still no note on the other machine's dashboard. Finally he cracked the thermos and drank the coffee with distaste. At least it was sweet and milky – the only way he would take it. The last three months he'd fallen back into a daily routine of sleeping at night and three meals a day, but after this trip he'd been thrown right back into his needs-must, as-you-find-it existence of the last fifteen years. It was unpleasantly similar to his life in the Planet Trade Federation.

_Just after 4am a click and a rustle from the surveillance unit grabbed his attention back from the squirrel that was gathering seeds on the ground outside. He saw Trunks leaving the cockpit of the other machine. The letter lay on the dashboard._

' _At last!'_

_He waited ten minutes and then transmitted himself to the time machine beside the hangar, popped the hatch and replaced Trunks's note with his own. He plucked the camera from its hiding place and was back in his own machine in less than sixty seconds._

_And he was still in existence._

_Now, only one jump remained…home, and in doing so, unmaking the universe where he had died and Trunks had killed the Kai._

As night lightened into day and the note had still not appeared Vegeta began to feel ill with tension. He would have to keep watching to confirm it, but it seemed that he was living in the second iteration of the time loop. The universe that led to Trunks and Bulma leaving their desperate note had been unmade.

And he was still in existence.

If it was to all fall apart, would he know? At what point? Would his consciousness just end, or never exist? What of the others? It might not be until he tried to return that they all fluttered out like candles.

'I _hate_ time travel!'

Just before the sun came up he transmitted himself to the time machine beside the hangar, popped the hatch and laid his note on the empty dashboard. He plucked the camera from its hiding place and was back in his own machine in less than sixty seconds.

His heart beat hard. Now only one jump remained…

Home.

Hands shaking, he brought up the next jump in the scheduler, back to the broken down universe that held his Bulma and her tiny circle of family and friends. Her note had never said what time he should return, only that it was hours after he left that the Kai realised their mistake. He decided on nine o'clock in the evening on the day he left. That would be enough time, surely?

The tremor spread from his hands up his arms to his core.

'Please!' he begged fate, luck, the laws of physics, and everything that might determine the outcome of this jump. 'Please, please, please!'

Ah, either way, it would be over in a moment.

He pressed the jump button.


	44. The Universe Unmade, Part Two

Outside the time machine the morning plunged to blackness…and then faded up to a starry night.

Vegeta felt an electric current of fierce joy strike through him, but he couldn't give in to it yet, not until he knew everything was fixed. He forced his sense of Chi outwards, sensing no Kaioshin, but below ground was _her_ and Trunks. He popped hatch open, stood and shouted up to the heavens 'Don't you fucking try anything! I've done all you could have hoped for and more, and I'm done! Leave me alone!'

Then he jumped to the ground, moving like the wind through the long grass, down the tunnel and into the house so fast he wasn't sure if he was flying or running. The tiny corridor to the bedroom and bathroom was blocked by Sixteen's massive bulk. He could hear crying from inside the room, and Trunks's voice saying 'Mom,' in a tone that made him even more anxious to get inside.

'Out of my way you lumbering brute!' he snarled at Sixteen, grabbing him around the middle and throwing him out into the lounge. Sixteen's cry matched the shock on Trunks's face as he finally made it into the doorway of the bedroom. Bulma was curled up in her son's lap, bedraggled, pink faced and utterly laid low by grief. And he saw the letter he'd left her on the bed – she'd found it already. Well, was that all she was crying over?

'V-Vegeta,' stammered Trunks. The Woman looked up at last, but her gaze was alarmingly dull as Trunks stood up and put her on her feet. They both continued to stare at him.

'I know I'm late, but I thought you'd still be a little glad to see me,' he said, still feeling a trickle of doubt when she just stood there, mouth agape. Then she brought her hands to her mouth and moaned.

'What?' he asked, the doubt springing into fully fledged fear.

She dropped her hands and looked at him, incredulous. 'You bastard, I thought you were DEAD!' she shrieked. And then she leapt at him, winding her hand back to slap him. She was far too slow for his reflexes though, and he pulled his head back out of range, Her hand sailed past his face, and her momentum carried her onwards, crashing into him. He wrapped his arms around her so she wouldn't fall over and hurt herself.

'Is that all?' he said, into the crook of her neck, and he laughed in relief.

She started crying again, and wailed 'Vegeta! Of all the times to be late!'

All was right! The joy burst forth again and he pulled Bulma away from him, lifting her into the air, and he roared in triumph, the grin on his face threatening to split his face in half. She yelped in surprise but he couldn't stop laughing even though her face was frightened.

'Are you mad?' she demanded, startled out of her tears.

He put her on her feet again. 'No,' he said, his throat suddenly feeling tight. 'I'm home!'

* * *

Bulma's heart, mind and body lurched to understanding all at once. The confusion dropped away, because the how and the why were suddenly irrelevant. He wasn't dead - he was home. Home? With her?

They stared at each other, arm's length apart, his hopeful black eyes boring into her blue ones, still sparkling with tears. And then she grinned too.

'Yes!' she said. 'YES!'

She found herself in his arms again, and his kiss, that she thought she'd never feel again, was on her lips. The kiss was hard, and he pulled her to him almost crushingly, but she didn't mind. She was holding on to him so hard that if she'd had her way their edges would have given way and dissolved into each other. When the kiss broke she looked into his eyes and saw _him_ , stripped of all ego and posturing, no pride or agenda in the way. There was just hope and happiness. It flooded into her, like a downpour on a drought-baked plain, more than she could handle.

'No need for the tears Woman,' he said, his voice suddenly low and husky, his grin fading into something else. His warm breath was mingled with hers as he pressed his forehead to hers.

'No? What are you going to do about it?' she said, reaching for a lame tease to cover for her inability to say how she really felt. She couldn't tell him that her heart was full past bursting, that her world was now complete because he was here, could she? It was Vegeta, after all.

He kissed her on one cheek where a tear rolled down, and with a tiny flick of his tongue, erased it. Then he did the same to the other cheek. Like a flick of a switch, this strange, oddly tender gesture ignited a fire in Bulma. She kissed him in return, parting his lips, sinking into his mouth where those tears were swallowed, and he eagerly accepted, kissing her back, running a hand up her back and into her hair…

The sound of Trunks clearing his throat brought her back from their private world. She had forgotten he was there. Guiltily she turned to face him, stepping back from Vegeta, but he kept an arm tightly around her. Trunks was blushing a little, and looked even more uncomfortable when they both turned to look at him.

'What do you mean you're home?' he asked Vegeta.

'I'm staying,' replied Vegeta plainly.

'That is good to hear,' said Sixteen's voice from behind them. 'I am pleased.' He had bent over and put his head back into the bedroom to witness the reunion.

'Pleasing you, Sixteen, was always my highest priority,' said Vegeta cuttingly, but Sixteen merely blessed them all with his good-natured smile.

'Uh huh,' said Trunks. He looked a little wild around the eyes, and Bulma wondered what on Earth was going through his head. Perhaps Vegeta had a better idea than she did though because when he spoke next Trunks seemed to relax a little.

'It won't be like our time in the Hyperbolic Time Chamber boy. I'm not that man anymore.'

Trunks laughed nervously. 'I can see _that_ ,' he said. 'You're not my father. Or are you? What do I even call you?'

Bulma held her breath. Both sides of her heart were back in her life…but how would they get along together?

'What do you want to call me?' asked Vegeta.

They stared at each other, and Trunks looked away first, blushing slightly again.

'I want to call you Father.'

'Then call me that,' said Vegeta, with just a twitch of a smug smile. Bulma felt like singing. She twisted out of Vegeta's hold and threw her arms around Trunks's neck again with a laugh. These two were going to be awkward with each other for who knew how long, but she was determined to bring them together with her happiness.

'Mom, this is the strangest day of my life,' he said to her quietly. 'And that's saying something, because yesterday I fought a monster, died and was resurrected!'

'Strange is good!' she said.

'Yes,' he agreed. 'It is!'

She found she had already brought them closer together, in a literal sense, when she turned around and saw that Vegeta had stepped towards them with his hand stretched out as if to pluck her back from Trunks. His gaze was intense and possessive, and though it immediately sent a burst of warmth over her skin, she did wonder if she was going to have issues in the future with Trunks and Vegeta sharing her attention.

'And why were you so late coming back, huh?' she said, bringing Vegeta up short. 'Did you forget what you said in your letter? Letting me think you were dead was pretty unforgivable Buddy!'

Vegeta grunted and crossed his arms, his face falling back into it's more familiar cool frown. 'Blame the Kai and time travel and even yourself Woman. Speaking of which, I have a time machine to reduce to atoms.' He turned and pushed past Sixteen again, and the others hurried after him. In the garden he jumped into the cockpit and threw down a gym bag and a plastic carrier bag full of empty Tupperware and a thermos. Then he jumped to the ground again threw off his grey leather jacket, a jacket that Bulma had never seen before, and growled at the time machine as if it was an enemy.

'I'm going to enjoy this,' he said, raising his hands.

'Don't do it here!' Bulma screamed. 'You'll blow us sky high when the time drive is breached!'

And then they all leapt in fright as two figures appeared between Vegeta and the machine.

'Oh, hey Vegeta! Hi everyone!'

'Goku!'

'Kakarott!'

He stood there not in his orange gi, but in a gold embellished Kai tunic, grinning at them all, but his grin slipped immediately.

'GOKU!' Sixteen launched himself at Goku, who fell on his back and used his legs to flick the android up and over the top of the time machine.

'Oh no,' said Goku as he jumped to his feet again. 'I forgot all about Sixteen!'

Sixteen came back at him from around the machine, and Goku swatted him away, holding him off easily, and Bulma's attention switched to the other person that had dropped in with Goku. A hunched, old purple-skinned Kai stood there in a ridiculously puffy-sleeved Kai outfit. He had a devious smile and bulging, slitted eyes that lingered on Bulma.

'Another one?' said Trunks. Bulma found herself in a protective sandwich between two suddenly hostile Saiyan warriors.

'Get out of here, Old Kai,' Vegeta shouted. 'Your kind aren't welcome here!'

The Kai tittered. 'Oh I'm not here to give you grief,' he said, 'although you gave those Supreme Kai a run around.'

'What are you here for then?'

'Let's wait for Goku. He will explain.'

Goku rejoined them having transmitted Sixteen far away.

'That should buy us a few minutes at least!' he said.

'Kakarott,' said Vegeta, relaxing ever so slightly. 'Bring me good news you oaf - I've had a very trying day.'

Goku smiled winningly. 'Well, yes, there's good news! The Supreme Kai are going to leave you and Bulma alone from now on, so long as you all promise never to time travel again.'

'I already promised Kibito Kai,' said Bulma.

'And I was just on my way out here to destroy this thing,' said Vegeta with a nod towards the machine.

'Well, that's the second thing I've come about. The Supreme Kai don't want you to destroy the machine. They want to ask you if they can have it.'

Vegeta growled. 'Why should we let them have anything? They've spent their latest efforts trying to kill Bulma and I.'

'And they feel terrible about it!

'I'm sure! And yet I don't truly feel their regret. I'd much rather have the satisfaction of exploding the source of my torment.'

'Please, Vegeta!'

'If you want to get in the way I'll try exploding you too!'

'Oh, you might _try_ …'

'Is that a challenge?' Bulma looked at Vegeta's face, which was intent upon Goku, his sly smile promising both mischief _and_ violence. With a sigh she realised he'd already forgotten she was there.

Goku grinned back playfully, and then swallowed down on it, his face settling into determination. He lifted a hand and reached back to touch the machine. Vegeta rushed him, and the moment he closed on Goku the both of them and the machine disappeared.

'Oh no,' she groaned at the same time as Trunks gasped 'Father!'

'I wouldn't worry if I were you,' said the Grand Old Kai. 'They're just playing.'

'That's what I was worried about,' said Bulma, wondering how long he'd be gone for this time, and if she'd get him back in one piece.

'Now the third order of business this evening is that your friend Goku has run up a bit of debt, and he brought me here to settle the account.' He took a step towards her and Trunks, and Bulma recognised the calculating, leery look in his eye.

'And what's the nature of this debt?' she asked suspiciously.

The Kai rubbed his hands together. 'One which he couldn't pay himself. I'm afraid he'd promised that you would cover him, pretty Earthling woman.' And then he giggled as if he was telling a joke, but couldn't contain himself before getting to the punchline.

Trunks took exception to this and stepped forward. 'You'd better think very carefully about what you do next, because I don't like the way you're looking at my Mom.'

The Old Kai grinned. 'Agreed!' He stepped closer to the two of them and Trunks coiled in attack, but the Kai snapped his fingers. Trunks disappeared into thin air.

'What have you done?' Bulma screamed.

'Sent him for a cold bath in the West River,' said the old man. 'Don't worry, this won't take long!'

When Trunks, Goku and Vegeta, returned almost simultaneously a couple of minutes later the old goat was gone and Bulma was scrubbing at her face with the back of her sleeve and spitting on the ground. Trunks was dripping wet. When Goku appeared, a fire hotter than the pits of Hell erupted behind Bulma's eyes and spewed out of her mouth.

'GOKU, I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!' She ran at him and reached up to smash her fist into his chin. However, the only thing that smashed was her hand. 'Ow-ow-ow!' she cried, clutching her bashed knuckles.

'Idiot Woman, that is not how to throw a punch!' said Vegeta with an infuriating chuckle.

'You don't know what he's done!' she cried.

'Mom, are you all right?'

'Yes I'm _all right!_ ' she screeched, feeling incandescent with rage.

'Right, I gotta go, sorry!' said Goku, looking nervously at Vegeta whose face turned stormy again.

' _Kakarott?_ '

'In sixty years time, right?'

'Right, but –'

Goku disappeared.

* * *

Trunks took off his jacket and wrung it out, shivering in the night breeze. He found being bested by magic galling. It made a mockery of all his years of training. Vegeta was livid when Bulma told him what the Grand Old Kai had done to her, but his rage blew over quickly. Sixteen returned from the other side of the continent where Goku had left him, but when he returned he saw that Goku was gone, and for now he was no longer needed.

'I will return to the house of Seventeen and Eighteen. She will be excited to hear of what has happened here.'

Trunks's guts writhed with anger at another mention of the easy relationship with the androids. It almost physically hurt him that this _friendship_ with Eighteen seemed to be real.

His mother cast him a hopeful glance, but frowned when she saw his face.

'Visit soon, Sixteen,' she said a little sadly.

The tiny family made their way back downstairs, and his mother stated her desperation to get to bed. He wasn't surprised she would be exhausted, but he also hadn't missed that Vegeta was keeping a restless hold on her, and it was no longer about protection. When Trunks headed to the bathroom to strip off his sodden clothes Vegeta told him 'The offices at the end of the lab make ideal bedrooms.'

'Okay,' he replied, confused.

He showered and made his way back into the lounge, and soon discovered that none of his old clothes fit properly. And the best of them were missing.

He wasn't sure how he felt about Vegeta being back. He'd wondered and dreamed his whole life about the man, but meeting him, while amazing, had also been a big wake up call. Before he'd travelled into the past he had thought he had a realistic, non-romanticised picture of his father, but it turned out he was still not prepared for the reality. Whereas his mother had described him as cold and difficult to reach emotionally, Trunks had found him to be an ice-cold rock almost to his core. He was selfish, sadistic, and as prideful as he was self-pitying. He was still in awe of his father, still respected him, somewhat, but if he was honest with himself, he was scared of him and kind of hated him a little. He'd spent all his time at his father's side looking for some kind of affection, or at least approval, and he'd had to freaking die before he got it, and even then it hadn't been to his face. A single salute was all he'd gotten. What would it be like living under the same roof as Vegeta? How would he treat his mother? He'd seen absolutely no softness to Vegeta in two years with him.

Well, maybe there was a little softness to _this_ Vegeta. He'd told him he was proud of him. And he'd never seen Vegeta smile in any way other than nasty until this evening, when he had positively beamed to see his mother. It was hopeful. He wanted to believe this was the start of the family life he's always missed.

But if things turned bad between Vegeta and his Mom, how would he protect her from him? Would he break her heart again? Break _his_ heart again?

He lay down on the trundle bed and discovered that he was now so tall that his feet hung over the end. Brilliant. He could hear the muffled sounds of his parents talking on the other side of the thin wall. His mother laughed.

It was a bittersweet moment. His impossible childhood dream of having his father back had come true. But instead of being wrapped in a cocoon of love and security like he'd imagined as a child, he felt nervous and just a little bit lonely.

And then he heard something through the thin capsule house walls that made him realise the wisdom of Vegeta's advice about the offices at the end of the lab. He packed up his bed and carried it into the lab, his mother's breathy moans and his father's happy growl chasing him out of the house.

* * *

Bulma woke in the dark and rolled over to see the time. Ten past ten! She'd really overslept. When she reached out to turn on the bedside lamp an arm snaked around her waist and hauled her back against a warm body. Yes, she wouldn't be needing another blanket on the bed for a while yet, not while _he_ was in it.

She turned in his grasp to face him, still amazed he was here. Their joyous lovemaking last night seemed like a dream already. Exhaustion had overwhelmed them both almost as soon as they had gasped their way to climax. But she wasn't tired now.

He was watching at her with a serious but soft expression. She looked back at him, still feeling just a little shy and awkward with him, even after everything that had happened between them. She reached out and stroked his face, and he closed his eyes like a cat being petted – haughty but enjoying it just the same. She trailed her fingers down his neck and then over his chest. Real. Solid. Hers. At least for now.

'Is this real?' she whispered.

'I certainly hope it is,' he replied, opening his eyes again.

As they stared at each other she felt exposed. Her heart was running in circles with nowhere to hide, and the longer she looked into his eyes the wider it swelled with her feelings for him. She'd already told him she loved him the day before when she thought he'd never come back, and part of her wanted to shout it out again. Another part of her wanted to play it cool and pretend she hadn't meant it as earnestly as she had. She was teetering on the edge of a black hole. Did she want to fall in forever and ever and never come out? Yes, she did! But the voice of self-preservation told her to back away. If she gave her heart up to him completely and he left her again she might lose her mind next time.

She dropped her eyes and rolled into him to hide her face as she kissed his shoulder. Her hand slid down under the covers, gliding over the muscles of his abdomen to encounter the silken skin of his cock. It jumped against her hand, eager for more action already, whatever it's master thought. He purred with approval as she took him in hand, and she settled her head on his warm shoulder, closing her eyes to let the sensations take her. He stroked a hand up her hip, tickling over her ribs and breast, up her neck. When had he learnt to be so gentle? Her Vegeta had managed not to actually hurt her _most_ of the time, but he'd never touched her like this. The other Bulma had taught him well. The other Bulma whose husband she now had.

Suddenly his hand gasped her chin, pulling her face up so he could look her in the eye again. He looked puzzled.

'What is wrong, Woman?'

'Nothing,' she said.

She leaned up to kiss him, wanting desperately to wrap herself in him and not hold her heart up for more scrutiny. But after a few moments he pushed her away with a rumble of impatience.

'What?' she complained.

He stared at her again, his gaze hard now. 'You tell me.'

'I'm not the one putting the brakes on.'

He stared at her, his breath kicking up a notch and his brows lowering into a V over his penetrating glare. Oh no.

'Bulma, are you happy?'

'Yes. Of course.'

'Could have fooled me.'

'I am!' When his expression still didn't soften she propped herself up on her elbow to look down at him. 'I am!' she said more forcefully. 'I have Trunks home and you came back. Of course I'm happy!'

'You didn't think I'd be back, did you?'

'No. I didn't even know you might try until I found the note you left.'

He stared at her for a long moment, breathing hard, and his intensity scared her. She didn't know where he was going with this.

'I never did ask you if you wanted me to,' he said.

'But I did!' she snapped, almost cutting him off. 'I did and I do, so there's no problem, okay?' He relaxed only slightly, but his frown deepened, his expression settling into its old steely stoicism. Bulma could almost hear the doors clanging shut in his heart as he closed himself off from her.

'No!' she said, stroking his face again, trying to ease the creases from his brow, but he turned away this time and looked up at the ceiling. She wasn't being honest with him, and it seemed like he could tell. 'Okay then, there's something, but it's not a problem! I'm just worried- wondering I mean, how long you'll be here this time.'

His gaze snapped back to her, his eyes suddenly narrow and furious.

'What do you imagine is going on here, Bulma? Some temporary arrangement?'

She shook her head, and then shrugged unhappily. 'Is it?'

'I'd like to remind you that we have no time machines anymore. There's no going back for me.'

'So? You never needed a time machine to leave me before,' she said, dropping her eyes and blushing at the memory of her past devastation. 'Why did you come back here? I don't even know.'

'I thought you read my note.'

'You came back because you felt bad about leaving me pregnant? You felt a responsibility?'

'More than that!' he said. But then he frowned, trying to remember the contents of he letter she guessed. 'Did I not say?'

'Say what? And what happened to your family? Did you leave them to be here?' She wasn't sure what she wanted to hear in response to that. She'd feel bad whether she'd been the second best choice _or_ if he'd ditched them to be with her.

He shook his head, throwing off the irrelevant question. 'They are safe and happy. I left another version of myself with them. I had to tear myself in two to do it, but it's done.'

'Why?'

He sat up now and leant over her, looking pissed off, but also just a tiny bit amused. He put a hand either side of her on the mattress; a cage with just two bars.

'For you, idiot Woman,' he said. He leaned down closer, his voice a soft rumble of threat and promise mixed. 'I will not leave you, no matter that you've already voiced your lack of faith in me.'

She blushed again with shame.

'I want you and I want your happiness, and your children and your trust,' he said. Bulma finally looked him in the eye again, surprised beyond speech. She was almost embarrassed by this bald statement, and by her own cowardice. His eyes were like the black hole she had not wanted to be dragged into, but now she was falling and falling, pulled in by his words.

'And you,' he went on. 'What do you want from me?'

She stared back at him, breathing fast and nervously. She wished he could just see into her heart what she wanted, because she was still too scared to speak it out loud.

'Say it!' he commanded, shaking the bed roughly.

The little surge of irritation at his action gave her the sass to reply at last. 'I want something real. I want everything!'

Vegeta's face broke into a sharp, mean-eyed grin of satisfaction. He rolled over the rest of the way, settling one knee and then the other between hers, pinning her with the weight of his body.

'Tell me about "everything",' he said.

She huffed, squirmed under his scrutiny, and strained upwards to kiss him just so she wouldn't have to look him in the eye any longer. He kissed her back and pushed her down onto the pillow. She wrapped her arms round his neck to keep him there, but he took one wrist and then the other and pressed them down to the pillow too. He lifted himself away from the kiss and she realised she was completely immobilised with his weight on her hips and his hands locked around her wrists.

'Tell me,' he insisted.

'What's to tell? I want it _all_ Vegeta.' She bucked her hips against him, trying to spur him to motion and stop with the forty questions. He bent his head to her throat and brushed his lips along it, breathing in the scent before rubbing his face along her neck. She jumped with ticklishness, and there was no way to get away from the overwhelming sensation. Dammit, it was torturously good and he knew she was sensitive there!

'What is "all?"' he spoke into the crook of her neck, and then kissed it, opening his mouth to play his teeth along her skin, sucking and then biting gently.

She gasped as her skin broke into goosebumps. 'I want you to be here,' she said in a rush, hoping that giving him an answer would prompt him to move on.

'Done,' he said, raising his head. 'But that's not much to ask. What is it that you're so afraid to ask for?'

She wondered how he knew she was afraid, but then realised that perhaps scenting fear was just as easy as scenting arousal for this animal. And why was it so hard to say? 'It's a miracle that you're here at all. It seems like tempting fate to ask for more. Why set myself up for disappointment?'

He hissed angrily. 'Not everything ends in loss and disappointment, Woman.'

'If you say so.' She struggled to draw her arms down again and wriggle her hips out from under his, feeling like he was intruding into her private garden of insecurities. She got nowhere though.

'It won't if I have anything to say about it!' he told her. 'I took a mighty leap of faith to be here. And you're too frightened to take a tiny step!'

Her cheeks burned with mortification that he was calling her out like this. 'All right!' she snapped, tears springing to the corners of her eyes. 'What do you want me to say?'

He bared his teeth. 'The truth about what you want from me.'

'I want you to stay with me forever and never leave me!' She said the words in an angry rush, resenting giving herself up like this, but the effect on Vegeta was the opposite. His face immediately relaxed into happy anticipation.

'As you wish, contrary Woman,' he said softly, his voice dropping lower, spreading vibrations from his chest to hers. And with it came a rush of confusion. There was no accusation of neediness as she expected. She'd asked and he'd accepted…

Vegeta released her wrists and bent his head to the other side of her neck, licking down from her ear with distracting flicks of his tongue, then dove in with his whole mouth; lips, teeth and tongue all in play at once. Bulma cried out at the sensation, wrapping her arms around him and writhing under him as he took her to the juncture of pleasure, pain and ticklishness.

* * *

The Woman gasped on and on, and Vegeta laughed at the way her body struggled against his, nearly fighting, but mostly pushing herself desperately closer to him. He groaned as she rubbed herself against his prick in a gratifying display of arousal.

She bit him back then, hard, and he had to restrain himself lest she urge him into a state of wildness her frail human body would regret. He pulled away from her, leaving them both panting, but Bulma warped an arm around his neck and tried to pull him back down to her. She only ended up lifting herself up to him instead, lacing her fingers in his hair to get a better grip on him and kissed him hard, biting his lip in impatience. He saw red for a second, kissing her back with a ferocity that made her squeal. Tough. She started it.

She pulled away and licked him across his open mouth, pulling his lip up in an imitation of a snarl. The gesture was so animalistic he felt himself being pushed past a place where conscious thought strayed. He licked her in return and nipped her cheek, burying himself in her gasps and clutching limbs.

But no. He still had more to ask her. He needed to hear her say the words. She needed to understand.

* * *

Bulma was indignant when she found him pushing her away from him, back down to the mattress. He knelt between her legs, trailing his hands up and down her body. He was breathtaking to look at, naked and fierce and gloating, slitted eyes glittering black in the warm glow of the bedside lamp. He looked like a demon sent from Hell to tempt and seduce and damn, his erection twitching with eagerness to complete its mission. She was wet and aching for him to do it _now_.

'What else do you want from me?' he growled.

She found it a little hard to think as he took special care to brush back and forth over her nipples.

'Your body!' she said, completely without shame, reaching for it already.

He laughed, 'Absolutely!' and closed his eyes as she wrapped her hand around his cock, swaying his hips back and forth in time with her movement. When he opened them again his mouth was hanging open. The look of wickedness was slipping away now. All she saw in his eyes now was want. He pulled her up from the bed by her other hand and pressed her against him so they knelt in front of each other, her hand trapped between them. Then with one arm around her back he bent his head and kissed down her neck to one hard nipple, rolling it around with his tongue. Bulma leaned back and moaned, feeling the ache to have him still building. She wrapped one leg behind him, trying to bring herself closer to him, and he suddenly lifted her, his other hand reaching under her hips to hold her and reach between her folds with gentle fingers. Bulma gasped before he even got there, so keen was she for him to touch her there.

'What else do you want?' he asked.

'You,' she said, kissing him and clinging to his shoulders as he continued to stroke her and grind his hips against her. 'Now!'

But he didn't oblige. He hesitated.

'Bulma, is there nothing else you want from me?' he said hoarsely.

She stilled for a second, opening her eyes properly and staring into his, because his voice sounded strangely anxious. Was she seeing this right? He looked…like she felt. He looked like a person who was desperate to be loved by their lover. Really? Could it be? He had already promised to stay with her forever, which was more than she hoped for. This was Vegeta – he didn't deal in sentimentalities…did he?

Terrified she was about to wreck this moment she whispered 'I want your heart…your love…'

'It's yours!' he replied, his voice breathy with earnestness, and Bulma almost couldn't breathe with the warm explosion of feeling the words provoked. Loved! He loved her! She could laugh, she could cry! How had this miracle happened?

He kissed her on the lips again and pulled her higher, his cock just resting against her slick entrance. 'And what will you give me in return?'

'Everything! All of it. Oh my god Vegeta, I'd give you anything!'

'Ha!' he laughed, in relief rather that amusement. 'For how long?'

'Forever!' She tried to wriggle herself down, the heat between her legs demanding to be sated, but he still had more questions for her.

'Why?'

'Because I love you!'

He slid a bare inch into her, and now they were both trembling. Vegeta could lift mountains – he wasn't trembling from the _physical_ effort of holding her where she was.

'Because you are my mate?' he asked, and he could have asked her anything at this point and she would have agreed with him.

'Yes!' she screamed before she'd thought it through.

'Then _say_ it!'

'I am your mate!'

'And _I_ am _your_ mate!' he roared back at her in tones of triumph, and he pushed into her, giving her what she wanted, giving her more than she ever hoped for, giving her all of himself, and she surrendered in return. As they moved together Bulma felt a euphoria building that stemmed from far more than just the joining of their bodies. He continued to look her in the eye as he moved in her, and she saw adoration in them equal to her astonishment. There was nothing between them, nothing to hide and nothing to hide behind; just a open window into each other's souls and she was losing herself to him, bleeding into each other. Her mate! And she loved him!

Frantically she pulled at his shoulders, clawing at him to drag him in even closer than their bodies allowed as the sensation that had been building inside her broke the damn and flooded through her, and she screamed out her release and her joy. Vegeta bucked frantically against her and then cried out himself, his rhythm falling to pieces as he shuddered apart inside her, and tumbled over, sinking onto the bed with Bulma trapped beneath him. The echoes of the pleasure continued to wrack her body as Vegeta rocked against her gently, drawing the moment out as long as he could.

She could feel the wonder and happiness radiating out of him as well as she could feel her own.

They lay, catching their breath for a while. Vegeta propped himself up on an elbow and kissed her, then looked down at her curiously.

'What just happened?' she asked, still full of amazement. She wasn't sure if it was just the combination of incredible sex and this new feeling of being loved by the man she loved, or if some magic had leaked into her world and opened a secret pathway from her heart to Vegeta's.

'We are mated. By mutual agreement.'

'We are?'

'You did agree,' he said defensively, but still smiling. 'In fact you screamed it out at the end.'

'I did?' Bulma was abashed. 'I didn't even think about how loud we were being. I hope Trunks wasn't in the lounge.'

'We'd be lucky if he didn't hear us from the lab,' he chuckled.

She laughed too, but a little trickle of concern remained. She had a feeling she'd just made a much larger commitment than she knew.

'Traditionally Saiyans only mate once, for life,' he said, looking a little troubled. 'But you're still Bulma, my mate. Maybe there'd be an exception for mating the same woman twice? I don't think the traditions were established with time travel in mind.'

'I don't suppose they were,' she said, biting her lip and smoothing her hand across his forehead to wipe away the frown that was creeping back. She knew that the backdrop to their current happiness was a great big mess, and she didn't want to go there right now when she was awash in such glowing warmth. 'So that was the real deal? The way Saiyans do it? Mating.'

He shrugged. 'It's the way I do it. Never seen anyone else do it. But I read about it in some books long ago.'

She laughed before she could stop herself and then felt bad for Vegeta as he scowled.

'The destruction of one's culture and heritage is not a laughing matter.'

'I'm sorry,' she said, and kissed him to sooth away the hurt. He forgave her, judging by the way he kissed her back.

'But it was a real thing?' she asked hesitantly went he finally broke the kiss and rested his head on her shoulder.

'It's real all right. And it's forever.'

A curious mixture of joy and dread and victory filled Bulma's chest. Relatively speaking, she still hardly knew him, and yet she loved him. If he'd proposed marriage to her instead of having her shout out the deepest desires of her heart and giving them to her, she'd probably have been delighted but said 'Lets wait a while and see.' Instead she'd stumbled into this, perhaps more serious commitment. She wasn't sure what he thought of Earthling marriage, but she was sure that he believed in this. This _forever_.

She looked down to where he rested his head on her shoulder, and he looked up at her, his gleeful grin transforming his face handsome and boyish. Her breath caught in her throat. God, she loved him! What was she thinking? 'Anything' she'd said. She'd give him anything and everything. She'd be his wife, she'd be his mate, she'd be anything he asked – he was the husband of her heart.

He stroked a hand down her side and rolled over to lick a path across her sweat-slick skin to her nipple. She glanced again at the clock on the bedside table. Ah well, she supposed there was no rush to get up today.

* * *

When she finally emerged from the bathroom at midday, scrubbed clean and feeling as buoyant as a bubble, she found Vegeta and Trunks in stilted conversation at opposite ends of the kitchen. Trunks was standing at the bench with a bowl, beating eggs. He met his mother's eyes for a second and then away with an embarrassed smile.

'I'm making breakfast,' he said. 'Or maybe it's lunch.'

'Oh, thanks Trunks!' she said. 'You haven't been waiting for us to get up to eat have you?'

He snorted, keeping his eyes down. 'Yeah. I thought it would be better to wait until you guys were…"awake".'

Bulma felt herself turning scarlet, and Vegeta didn't help. He was standing with his arms crossed and leering at her. The man absolutely didn't care what others thought of their sexual antics. It was like the gene for sexual discretion was missing from him.

'You want some coffee Mom?' asked Trunks, grabbing the plunger pot from the other bench.

'Oh…no thanks Trunks,' she told him.

He looked surprised. 'Oh. Just one for me then,' he said, pouring the black stream into a mug. The rich aroma spread through the kitchen and hit Bulma in a cloud of fugginess. Immediately her stomach turned over. She took a deep breath, trying to get a grip on the sudden nausea, but that just brought her another noseful of coffee stench.

'Oh god…'

She ran back to the toilet and retched, bringing up bile until her eyes streamed. Oh yeah, definitely morning sickness this time.

'What's wrong with Mom?' she heard Trunks say, sounding worried.

Vegeta laughed. 'She's only paying the price for not being able to keep her hands off me,' he said.

That black-hearted bastard, she thought to herself as she retched again. Husband of her heart indeed!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Next chapter, the epilogue.


	45. Epilogue - On the Mend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Here it is, the long promised epilogue. At the end will be a long, self-indulgent author's note if you're interested.

Bulma sat up, putting her hands to the small of her back and groaning as she stretched. It was tiring work focusing on this delicate thing for hours and hours on end. When she finished, this would be the seventh infinite power drive she had built. Constructed from her notes and memories of Dr Gero's invention, they were invaluable. The first she built was used to power the lab and the house and all the other home-projects on the capsule compound. Second was used to power the wider neighbourhood – the two dozen families who now lived and farmed on the banks of the West River. Others went to a mansion that had been converted into a hospital outside of South City, the demolition and recycling project of West City, a mine near Pine Tree Ridge, and a factory for manufacturing batteries. This next one would go into a factory for manufacturing more infinite power drives, and then that would hopefully be the last one of these Bulma constructed by hand.

She walked out into the hangar to warm herself in the sun that was blazing down through the open overhead doors. This coincided with a visitor dropping in, flying directly down to land in front of Bulma.

'Hey,' said Eighteen, folding her arms, and treating Bulma with one of her top-shelf thin-lipped smirks of repressed affection.

'Hey,' she replied and mentally counted down. Three, two, one…

'Is Trunks around?'

'He's out training with Vegeta. They'll be back soon.' She raised an eyebrow at Eighteen, but the younger woman was oblivious.

'I suppose you've got Sixteen _babysitting_ again?'

'Yes. He enjoys it.'

'Huh. He's soft in the head.'

'How did you do at the market today?'

'I sold everything of course,' said Eighteen, quite smugly. She had found a sewing machine a couple of years ago, which Bulma had refurbished for her, and she used this to make clothing which she sold. Her creations were popular, even if the creator wasn't. 'I can't wait for next year's cotton harvest. I've had enough of scrabbling for salvaged material.'

Bulma kept her mouth shut. While she appreciated Eighteen's reintegration back into society, her complaints were rather hard to take when she had been jointly responsible for the sad state of said society.

'Are you looking for Sixteen?' she asked instead.

Eighteen shrugged again. 'I guess. I have something for Trunks too,' she said, and Bulma noticed the rolled up material under her arm for the first time.

'Yeah, what is it this time?'

'Pair of trousers. I was experimenting. I thought they looked like his size.'

'I can give them to him if you don't want to wait.'

Eighteen looked uncomfortable. 'No, I'll wait.'

Well, the girl was persistent, she'd giver her that.

'I was just going up to the house,' Bulma told her. 'Got to get lunch started for the boys. Will you help me?'

'Sure. I'll even help you _eat_ lunch.'

They walked back through the lab and up the stairs into the garden. Bulma had long since satisfied her curiosity about Eighteen's rekindled desire to eat. Eighteen didn't really understand it herself, but when she was around people she would get hungry. It was an instinctive habit that had nothing to do with need, and much more to do with socialisation. Even Seventeen was known to eat these days.

'How is Seventeen?' Bulma asked as they crossed the meadow of the garden. They had goats and cows now, so the grass was clipped relatively short these days. The new house was built on the foundation of the old one, but it was a far more modest building than the one it replaced. It was a wood-framed, four bedroom, two story house with wattle and daub cladding and wooden shingles. The building was a collaborative effort between herself, Trunks, Vegeta, Sixteen and Eighteen, and Bulma was immensely proud of it, despite its tendency to leak and its rather dodgy plumbing. It was the first house she'd ever been involved with building, and it had been a learning process to say the least. They'd replace it one day, she was sure, but in the meantime it was home, and her heart swelled with happiness every time she saw it. It was comfort and permanence and family. Her life of running and loneliness was over.

'I don't know,' Eighteen replied. 'He's gone again.'

'Again? What happened to that Macy girl?'

'He broke up with her. He's gone down to Cresent Bay or somewhere looking for more action,' Eighteen replied sulkily. Since Trunks had returned and Bulma had announced to the world that the androids were no longer a threat, Seventeen had lived a mostly nomadic life trading on his new celebrity. He lived his life like a TV Western, rolling into town, saving the day and wooing the girl before riding off into the sunset again. Bulma suspected that he caused as many troubles as he solved, but there was no end of girls willing to throw themselves at the "dangerous" bad-boy.

'Well, with his track record he'll have no trouble finding some "action".'

Eighteen made a noise in he back of her throat. 'Girls just fall all over him, and he doesn't even care about them. It's not fair.'

Bulma turned back to Eighteen to study the girl's face. She was glowering at the ground.

'What do you mean?'

'I mean, he doesn't love them. He's just playing with them, you know, just _sleeping_ with them for fun.'

'Well, there are a lot of silly girls out there. What's not fair?'

Eighteen stopped mid stride, causing Bulma to turn back to her. Eighteen's frown was twisted up painfully.

'What's wrong, Eighteen?'

' _I'm_ not going around slutting it up,' said Eighteen. 'I only want…' She trailed off, rolling a goat turd with the toe of her boot and then kicking it away. 'Hey Bulma, do you think that maybe there's only one person out there for everyone? One person who they will love and who loves them? What if you missed that person? What if they were dead?'

'No,' said Bulma, realising who Eighteen was talking about. 'They'll be someone else out there.'

'Really? I know all about you and Vegeta. There was only one out there for you, wasn't there?'

Bulma opened her mouth to deny it, but realised that she couldn't. She couldn't imagine anyone else. There hadn't been anyone else. Even though her first Vegeta had died before she could even get to grips with the thought that she loved him, and well before he loved her back, somehow her heart had waited in stasis until another Vegeta had impossibly come back into her life. What else was that if not pre-destined love?

Eighteen's eyes flashed up at her and away with a bitter smile. 'See?'

'I'm sure there's someone else out there for you to fall in love with, Eighteen.'

'But what if I fall in love with someone and they never love me back?'

And now Bulma knew who the _new_ focus of this conversation was. God, it was pathetic, and she really did feel sorry for Eighteen, but she was barking up the worst tree possible. It was positively masochistic the way she pursued Trunks. For his part, Trunks had come to tolerate her uneasily for his parent's sake. Sometimes he even seemed to not dislike her, but he had told Bulma that Eighteen was two different people in his mind – Before Eighteen and After Eighteen. And whenever he remembered that After Eighteen was also Before Eighteen he burned with hatred and the urge to kill her.

'Then it wasn't meant to be and you'll find someone else,' Bulma replied levelly.

Eighteen's face crumpled, but then she bit down on her emotion and her face returned to its neutral sulk. 'You'd better be right.'

Bulma sighed and walked on. She hoped she was right too. She didn't think Trunks knew what Eighteen's continual attempts to build a bridge between them meant. Eighteen was so emotionally locked down and Trunks tried so hard to turn a blind-eye to her that hopefully he had missed the sentiment. She could just imagine Trunks's disgust if he realised Eighteen was attempting to court him.

As they neared the house Sixteen rounded the corner, striding after a nanny goat. One child was riding the goat with delight (the child's, not the goat's), and the other child perched like a queen on Sixteen's shoulder.

'Bardock, leave Cocoa alone!' Bulma said, plucking him off as the goat scrabbled away.

'Mama!' he said, laughing like he didn't know he was in trouble and kicking his legs to be put back on the ground again.

'What am I going to do with you?' she grumbled at her reckless, mischievous, eternally cheerful son. He was not yet three years old and was already too much trouble for his own good. She set him on the grass and watched the wild spikes of his blue hair bounce as he ran away from her after the goat. He looked a lot like Trunks at the same age, except for his hair, but he was happier, and even cockier. She wondered if it was his father's influence somehow. He was even named after Vegeta. Bardock was only his middle name, but they called him that to avoid confusion. She couldn't stand the suffix _Junior_ , and Bardock had a nice ring to it. When she and Vegeta had been throwing names around it had been her favourite sounding Saiyan name, and he had told her it was the name of Goku's father.

Suddenly his twin sister launched herself from Sixteen's shoulder into her arms.

'Oof!' Bulma exclaimed, caught by surprise, barely hanging onto the toddler as she nearly knocked the wind out of her. Bonnie looked up and graced her mother with one of her rare smiles. Bulma opened her mouth to scold her and found the little girl's expression so sweet she couldn't bring herself to do it.

'That was silly Bonnie, Mommy almost dropped you,' she said instead, rubbing her nose against hers. Bonnie chuckled and turned away from the affection. She was a slippery one Bonnie. She was named after Bulma's mother, but she was turning out nothing like her namesake. She was a serious, thoughtful, but fearless child, and possessed a determination that was alarming in a toddler. If she had dropped her daughter, Bulma had no doubt she would be fine. Bonnie had already jumped out of a second storey window with no ill-effects other than the heart attack she'd given her mother. Bardock was more likely to get himself in a situation where, say, _falling_ out of the window was a regretful consequence, but Bonnie would coolly and purposefully leap. It was strange that the twins were so different from each other, and yet they both reminded her of herself and Vegeta.

Bonnie was black-haired like her father, with a mild widow's peak, but it fell soft and straight on either side of her face, and her pink bow lips stood out against her pale skin. Her eyes were almost as black as her father's. Trunks had nicknamed her Snow White, and it was a name that stuck.

Vegeta had been subdued when they had been told by their midwife that she was carrying twins, but Bulma had put that down to anxiety. Twins were far riskier with the increased chances of complications and premature birth. Bulma had been beside herself with fear at the news. In the remaining months of pregnancy she had hunted down a former obstetrician, rebuilt the med lab with proper surgical facilities and built two incubators. And it was a good thing that she did, because the twins came four weeks premature by emergency caesarean after Bardock presented in breach and got stuck, sending Bonnie into distress. The med lab was now known locally as the "Briefs Delivery Suite" and had been the scene of a number of complicated births since then.

Bulma had finally noticed Vegeta's disappointment in the days after the birth. He was relieved, and he was happy and smugly proud of his two new children, but when he looked at Bonnie he wasn't able to hide it completely. There was sadness spoiling the mix, and Bulma could guess why. Even at just a few days old, with her fuzz of dark hair and peaked hairline, it was plain to see that Bonnie was no Bra. She'd understood his sadness, although it pissed her off (and they'd argued about it). He'd gotten over it though. As the twins' personalities began to express themselves the comparisons to forever-lost daughters faded away.

Bonnie twisted backwards, nearly pitching herself out of Bulma's arms again, and so she put her on the ground too, sighing. Bonnie made a bee-line for Eighteen, sizing her up, and Eighteen crossed her arms.

'Just keep walking, kid.'

Bonnie stopped, but then took an experimental step towards Eighteen anyway.

'Beat it!' said Eighteen, without any real heat, leaning down to glower at the girl. Bonnie veered away, running after her brother, a mocking laugh ringing out as she went.

Eighteen was curious about the children, and had been about Bulma's pregnancy too, but she didn't really get them. She certainly wasn't comfortable with them. Sixteen, on the other hand, was delighted by the twins in his quiet way. He liked watching them, although Bulma did wish he did more than just watch when he babysat them. As a nanny he was far too permissive, the goat riding being a case in point.

'Shall I mind them while you cook?' he asked her.

'If you would, Sixteen,' she replied. 'Don't let them terrorise the livestock though.'

Just then she caught the sound of air being rent by fast-moving bodies.

'Goody, more help in the kitchen,' Bulma said. Her men landed next to her, twin expressions of stoicism in place. Vegeta's slipped though as both toddlers ran at him, attaching themselves to his legs. He walked over to her, pretending to ignore the peals of laughter as his two youngest tried to cling on for the ride.

'Good morning's training, honey?' she asked him.

He lowered one eyebrow in disapproval of the endearment. 'Good enough.'

Bulma noted that his clothes were still in relatively good nick, but sighed when she saw that Trunks's outfit had taken a beating again, as had he most likely. Trunks was frowning at Eighteen, but Eighteen darted a look at Trunks and caught him staring. Trunks had the frown knocked right off his face before he turned away.

'Looks like you need the gift I made you,' said Eighteen, unrolling the trousers and holding them up to Trunks.

Trunks grimaced and approached Eighteen, getting just close enough to take the pants with an outstretched arm. Bulma only needed a second to note how stylish and complicated the cut was. Eighteen's designs and execution were constantly improving. Trunks was probably the most fashionably attired man on the continent thanks to her regular wardrobe additions.

'Thanks, Eighteen,' he said woodenly. 'You didn't need to.'

'I know,' she said simply. 'But who else is going to keep you in clothes if Vegeta keeps mashing the shit out of you all the time?'

'Shit!' said Bardock, his dark blue eyes shining with glee. Somehow he knew it was a naughty word.

'The boy did well today,' said Vegeta. Then he grinned. 'Very well. The second level of Super Saiyan is within his grasp, if not his control.'

Bulma laughed and ran to her older son. 'Is that right, Trunks?'

He finally smiled and nodded, breaking the tough shell he had taken to using in Vegeta's presence. In a way it was cute the way he mimicked his father in his manner, but at the same time it was sad that he felt he had to.

She grasped his face between her hands and squeezed his cheeks like a baby. 'Trunks that's amazing!'

'Thanks, Mom,' he said, 'but Father's right. I still have to control it. I've got a long way to go.'

'I know,' she said. 'You'll do it though. I'm so proud of you!'

He grinned back at her, his happiness breaking free.

As she turned back to Vegeta to share the moment with him she saw his matching grin falter and his eyes shoot up towards the sky. Time felt like it slowed down as she swivelled on the spot to see what he had, and her body delivered her a massive shot of adrenaline when she saw...a time machine, _her_ time machine, hanging in the air over the garden. As it dropped toward the ground, Vegeta thrust Bardock into her arms and practically threw Bonnie at Trunks. He came to a snarling defensive stance in front of his family.

'Who is it?' shouted Sixteen above the din of the twins' frightened crying.

'Kibito Kai!'

Eighteen gasped and then let out an unhinged laugh. 'What? Is he suicidal? Why would he show his face here?'

The machine touched down a little way away, scaring the goat and the chickens. Bulma held her breath as the hatch popped and raised, but straight away she could see that someone else was in the cockpit with him, though she couldn't make out who.

'Huh,' said Vegeta, his glower relaxing a little.

Kibito Kai leapt to the ground and walked towards them. He looked faintly embarrassed and nervous she noticed.

'Peace!' he called, slowing as he came nearer. 'Please don't be hostile Vegeta,' he said. 'Would you mind standing down your team?'

'Team?' said Eighteen, outraged. 'I don't work for Vegeta!'

Sixteen however looked to Vegeta for his cue. Bulma felt a stab of annoyance that since she had a baby in her arms she seemed to have become irrelevant to the situation. Vegeta straightened and crossed his arms, stance and face both projecting cynicism. Eighteen unconsciously copied his pose.

'What are you here for, Supreme Kai?' Bulma asked.

The Kai focused on her narrowed eyes and looked sorrowful. He bowed his head to her, which instantly made her feel bad about being so suspicious of him.

'Bulma, I feel terrible for everything that I and the other Kai visited upon you. I hoped you might have forgiven me by now.'

Bulma shrugged uncomfortably. 'I was pretty angry with you when it happened, and you haven't shown your face for more than three years.'

'I thought it wise to keep my distance,' he said, his eyes flicking to Vegeta and Trunks and back to her. 'But I've come back with a peace offering.'

'Is that so?' said Vegeta, his mouth curling up in a reluctant smile.

Kibito Kai smiled back at him as if they were sharing a joke. He turned and walked back to the time machine, and Vegeta followed him, the rest of them tagging along behind. Trunks cast Bulma a questioning look over Bonnie's head, and she shrugged back at him. Whatever or whoever was in the time machine it couldn't be too bad, judging by Vegeta's reaction.

As they got closer to the machine the other person in the cockpit stood up. The first thing she noticed about them was that they were green.

'Now, Supreme Kai?'

'Yes, now Dende!'

Bulma laughed out loud with surprise as the Namek jumped to the ground. He was tall, a fully-grown man, but definitely Dende. She rushed around Vegeta to see him up close.

'Bulma, you look exactly the same!'

'You don't,' she said, and Bardock struggled in her arms to face the stranger. 'Gosh, Dende, it must be twenty, twenty-five years since I saw you! Look how you've grown up!'

'Mommy,' said Bardock loudly. 'He's green!'

'Yes, I know that Bardock.'

'I don't think it's been quite that long for me,' Dende said.

'Oh, that's right! Vegeta said you'd been taken from this universe.' She looked over her shoulder and saw Vegeta trying to suppress a smile and the Kai grinning knowingly.

'He was,' said the Kai. 'But when the Time Patrol came across the universe where he'd been taken, we decided to return him at once.'

She looked back at Dende and he immediately answered the question she was about to ask.

'A man called Dr Gero tricked me into going with him. He said that my help was needed on Earth, but all he really wanted was a set of Dragonballs he could control. He took me back to his own universe where his creations had already killed Kami and Piccolo. If I'd known what he'd planned…Bulma, he wished for terrible things.'

'Dr Gero? It doesn't surprise me at all. Thankfully he's dead in this universe.' She stared at Dende's kind, alien eyes. She wanted to ask him why he was here on Earth and not back on New Namek, but the hope was so great that if she were wrong the disappointment would be shattering.

'I asked him if he would mind serving the Kai and the people of the Earth as it's new Guardian,' said the Supreme Kai. The hope leapt to Bulma's throat, making her next question breathless.

'Did you say yes?'

'Yes. I would love to serv-'

'Yes! Dende!' She grabbed him into a hug with one arm, squeezing the puzzled Bardock between them. 'I can't believe it! A new Kami!'

'And new Dragonballs,' added Vegeta, voicing the hope that Bulma was too tactful to mention.

'Hee,' said Bulma in embarrassment. 'Well, that's another good thing.'

To her relief Dende replied 'It looks like Earth needs them. I hope you don't think it's rude of me to say that your planet is a mess!'

She laughed again, aware in her peripheral vision that Eighteen was fidgeting uncomfortably. 'No, it's true. It's a great big mess, but it's on the mend.'

'Dende,' said Trunks, stepping forward. 'It's good to see you again.'

Dende frowned. 'I'm sorry, but I don't think we _have_ met.'

'Oh, yeah, of course. Not in this timeline. I met another version of you.'

'How confusing. I think I liked it better when there was just one thread of time moving from the past to the future.'

'Dende, this is my son, Trunks.'

'Is this your daughter?' he asked Trunks of the struggling toddler he held in his arms.

'No, my sister Bonnie. And that's my brother Bardock.'

Dende's eyes flicked over the twins, to Vegeta and away again quickly. 'Of course! Vegeta's children. You're all Bulma and Vegeta's children.' He looked back at Bulma again and smiled, blushing slightly. 'How marvellous!'

'I know,' she replied, grinning even as Vegeta snorted disparagingly behind her.

A dull thumping noise made everyone look over at the machine. Bulma saw a sandaled pair of scrawny legs kicking the lower dome of the machine.

'Oh no,' said the Supreme Kai, 'I forgot all about the lower hatch!'

He pressed a button on the remote and the lower hatch sprang open too. The legs dropped to the ground, and attached to them was a crooked old man wearing shorts, sunglasses and a Hawaiian shirt. 'One more minute in there and I was going to blast my way out!' said the crotchety voice. Bulma shoved Bardock into Dende's hands and ran to the old man as he was stooping to get clear of the time machine.

'Master Roshi!' she cried, grabbing him to her. She immediately wished she had waited a moment longer, as he fell forward with his face pressed to the front of her scoop-neck t-shirt.

'Boy am I glad to be back home again, especially when this is the kind of greeting I get,' he said as his arms made their way around her waist and gave her a surreptitious squeeze on the bottom.

'What?' snarled Vegeta.

Roshi looked up. 'Oh, that's right, he's here now.' He let go of her and winked. 'When I get back to my island, come pay a visit Bulma. Leave the stiff at home - we've got a lot to catch up on.' He looked down at her breasts with a wistful smile. 'I've missed you _so_ much!'

Trunks made a choking sound.

'You filthy old pervert!' scolded Bulma. 'I can't believe it, you've only been back ten seconds and you've already embarrassed everyone!' And then she burst into laughter. 'Oh my goodness, Kai! Who else do you have up your sleeve?'

'Only these two I'm afraid. We found him in the same universe as Dende,' said Kibito Kai. Then the smile faded from his face. 'I've got something to ask you though, you and Trunks. Please consider it.'

Bulma felt her happiness doused with cold. 'So what strings are attached to this deal?'

'No strings. You can refuse, and you have every right to do so. But the other Supreme Kai and I would like Trunks and you to join our Time Patrol.'

'No!'

Vegeta was at her side in a moment, an arm around her waist pulling her hard against his side. He looked bloody murder at the Kai, who gulped and took a step backwards.

'I knew that would be your initial reaction,' he said.

'It's going to be my only reaction,' she told him. 'Even if I felt like helping you, I just got my life and my family back together. I've got two little kids. As if I could, or would, leave all that to work for you on the Planet of the Kais. I can't believe you would even ask!'

'You're not taking her anywhere,' added Vegeta in a dangerously hushed tone.

'And I wouldn't!' said the Kai, holding his hands up. 'Please hear me out, before you say no. Bulma and Trunks could remain here. They wouldn't have to live on our planet. It wouldn't even be much work for you, Bulma; just occasional machine maintenance. We have more machines than Time Patrollers now. Things are starting to get out of control again – the remaining universes are continuing to split faster than we can shut them down. If it goes on this way your monumental clean up act will have meant nothing, Vegeta. We'll be swimming in more universes than we could ever cope with.'

'I notice you didn't ask me to join your little Kai brigade,' Vegeta replied.

The Kai gave a little hiccup of laughter. 'Would you _want_ to? Besides, we've had a Vegeta on the Time Patrol before. It didn't really work out.'

'Huh. You're damn right. I never want to touch a fucking time machine ever again. And neither do I want my woman or son in one.'

'Well, I'm sorry then,' said the Kai, looking between the hardened faces of Vegeta and Bulma. 'I understand. I don't blame you.' He made to turn back to the machine, but Trunks called out.

'Wait! Supreme Kai! I want to do it. Or at least try it.'

'What?' shouted Bulma and Vegeta in unison.

'No!' protested Eighteen.

'Trunks, why?' said Bulma.

'If the universes go on splitting to infinity, that's bad, right?'

'Very bad,' agreed the Kai. 'The power of the Kai to guide and oversee the universes would be watered down to nothing. It would be unremitting, random chaos until all creation broke apart.'

'The multiverse needs help Mom. I can help. I want to.'

Bulma couldn't believe it, but Trunks actually looked excited.

'It's not your fight Trunks! We need your help here too!'

'I think you can spare me for the sake of all of creation, right?'

Bulma turned and growled at the Kai. 'Taking my son away from me again! I can't believe it!'

'But I'm still going to be living here, Mom,' objected Trunks. 'You'll still see me.'

'I don't want to lose you again!'

'We have a very good safety record with our Time Patrol,' said he Kai. 'They have only ever left voluntarily. We've never lost a single one. And we'll make him deletion-proof.'

Bulma looked to Vegeta for back-up. Vegeta had his eyes narrowed on the Kai.

'Will this interfere with his time spent training with me?' said Vegeta.

'Vegeta!' yelled Bulma. 'That is _not_ what is pressing here!'

'Woman, the boy is twenty-three years old. If he wants to use his life to do something useful, let him do it. He wants a battle to fight. I don't approve of the company he'll be keeping or the method, but even so.'

Bulma looked from his face to the Kai's to Trunks's, feeling betrayed. She could see it all over Trunks's face, the hopeful anticipation of danger and adventure. Damn it! She clutched Bardock to her more tightly, At least this one wasn't going to get away and risk his existence anytime soon.

'Mamma!' he complained, struggling to get free.

Finally she growled and stamped her foot in temper. 'Fine! Whatever! But I'll be the one doing the maintenance on your time machine! I won't trust anyone else to touch it!'

'Thank you, Bulma,' said the Kai.

'But…' said Eighteen.

The Kai turned a puzzled face to her. 'Yes, Eighteen?'

Eighteen lifted her head and stuck her chin out. 'I want to join the Time Patrol too.' Bulma almost had to pick her jaw up off the ground. Kibito Kai looked even more surprised.

'Are you sure?' he said, looking rather alarmed.

'Yeah, why not? It's boring round here unless you're into babies or farming.'

He stared at her open mouthed for a second and then told her 'It might be a little hard for me to trust someone who tried her best to kill me every other time I met them.'

Eighteen stepped towards him, a mocking smile joining her haughty expression. 'You scared of me, Pretty Boy?'

'N-no!' stammered the Kai. 'But you don't precisely have a long track record of doing the right thing. Forgive me, but I don't know that you can be trusted with something with as much potential to be abused as a time machine.'

Eighteen looked rather pissed off by that evaluation of her character. 'Fine, don't trust me with your stupid machines then! What other jobs do you have on the Patrol? Perhaps I could come one board as the Kai's tailor and stylist.' She contemptuously plucked one of the ridiculously puffed sleeves of the Kai's shirt. 'Looks like you could use one!'

The Kai blushed pink and stepped back from her. 'Your offer of help is noted. It will be taken into consideration.'

'Consideration? Don't bullshit me. You mean it absolutely _won't_ be taken into consideration.'

'Well I can't see it ever happening, let me put it that way.'

Eighteen's eyes flashed with icy fire and she clenched her fists with rage. 'I can't believe this! You beg Trunks to do this thing, but when I offer of my own free will you all freak out! No-one _ever_ really trusts me! There's only one exciting job prospect, and you won't even let me have a crack at it! Urgh, whatever.' She turned and strode away to the house.

Bulma shook her head – Eighteen would be bending her ear about this later on, she had no doubt. When she turned back to the others she was not surprised to see that Master Roshi was openly oogling Eighteen's retreating backside. Trunks and Kibito Kai were also still watching her go with matching looks of confusion on their faces. Vegeta caught Bulma's eye.

'That's settled then,' he said. 'Where's lunch?'

* * *

Spring flowed into summer, and slowly faded into autumn again. Bulma sat in her ground floor study watching the open grasslands that stretched from what used to be the boundary of the Capsule Compound to the river, and the distant figures of the people cropping the dry grass into haystacks. She had been checking her planting calendar to see what they should be preparing to put in the ground, but she'd become distracted by the sight of the open fields. She still hadn't gotten used to it. West City was no more, and the only remainder of what used to be was the unnaturally symmetrical series of hills a little way back from the river. One was concrete, one was polycrete, one was steel, one was glass, and so on, in smaller and smaller mounds of conveniently arranged recyclables. It had taken a very carefully worded wish, but now all the cities of Earth were gone, the land they sat on returned to its natural state, and their materials sorted for reuse. Dende and Korin had agreed with her. There was no point in wishing for the restoration of the cities – there simply wasn't enough people left in the world to live in them. Though some small towns had remained occupied, the urban centres had all been abandoned when their infrastructure fell apart. And they'd always been a red flag for the androids. It was a different world for sure.

Bulma frowned when a familiar lavender-faced figure winked into view in front of the vegetable gardens. Trunks was not here – he was working some mission for the Time Patrol, and the sight of Kibito Kai here by himself was not at all reassuring. She remembered that Eighteen was on some sort of trial run with the Time Patrol today. Oh god, what had happened?

She stood up as the Kai made his way calmly to the house and knocked on the door. It couldn't be to bad if he was wasting time knocking, could it? Or maybe it was the worse kind of news – the kind where the swiftness of delivery could not make it any better.

She opened the door.

'Kibito Kai,' she said, flinging the door open. 'What's wrong?'

The handsome features looked up at her distractedly, his fist still raised from knocking on the door. Wherever his mind was it was far away from here. And though he didn't look happy, he also didn't look too upset.

'Wrong? Oh, I guess there is something wrong. Or at least I'm sure it's not right,' he said, seeming befuddled.

What the hell was wrong with him? 'Kai, is Trunks okay?' she demanded.

'Yes,' he said, looking surprised now.

'And Eighteen?'

'Oh. Yes. Though I don't think the Supreme Kai will let her join the Time Patrol after her first solo mission.'

Bulma groaned in disappointment. She would have a malcontent spinster robot back here in no time, twice as bitter at her place in the universe.

'Is that why you're here?' she asked him, letting him in the door.

'Yes and no,' he said. 'Bulma, I need to ask you another favour.' He lowered his head, embarrassed. She felt resentment fighting with pity at the sight of him. 'And perhaps some advice,' he added softly.

Well, this was new. None of his other requests had been accompanied with this much humility or discomfort.

'Let's hear it then,' she said, leading him back to the study where she sat back in her comfy chair, letting the Kai take the rigid wooden one. She felt a little triumph at her power play, having a god sit in the second best seat in the room while she lounged in the best. But this was forgotten the moment the Kai spoke.

'I may not be a Supreme Kai for much longer.'

' _What?_ '

He looked quite lost sitting in her study with his shoulders hunched. She could suddenly _see_ that there was something missing from him. His surety was missing. His authority.

'I might need a place to stay a little while if that comes to pass. I've lived for eons, but spend them all on the Planet of the Kais. I'm not sure if I know how to take care of myself outside of Heaven's gates so to speak, and…I've become rather attached to this place.'

She stared at him open mouthed.

The Kai's face became distraught. 'I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. It was foolish of me to impose on you and Vegeta any more than I have!'

'No!' said Bulma. She may have raged and resented the Kai at various times, but she felt sympathy for him now. She wondered how this would go over with Vegeta, but that was a question for later. 'No, you can stay. But Kibito Kai, why? I didn't think that Supreme Kai was the sort of job that you could lose.'

'It isn't usually,' he said with a wry smile. 'But I've not exactly been the Eastern Supreme Kai of old lately.'

'No?'

'I don't think it should be a surprise really, at least not to me,' he said sadly. 'Ever since Kibito and the Eastern Supreme Kai fused with the Potara earrings to become me, there have been mutterings amongst the other Supreme Kai that I was not quite as I should be. I was not quite so objective, not quite so distant, not quite as dispassionate. They made their opinions clear to me after we formed the Time Patrol. I took a leading role. They said I was too involved. They said I was becoming too attached to people and places. I disagreed with them. I thought it was no bad thing. The feeling of attachment was natural to me. I can't remember how the Eastern Supreme Kai or the bodyguard Kibito used to feel before the fusion, but I am me, and that is all I know how to be.

'But then as we pursued your Vegeta and others like him I knew that I wasn't being as ruthless with him as I could. I could not be cruel to someone who even deserved it…simply because it was Vegeta, and I knew him. I didn't want him removed from the universes. Even when he made me furious, I felt it was not right for him to be destroyed. I towed the Supreme Kai line though. Or I thought I did. Since that blew over I hoped that the criticism of me would die down too. It didn't. And now I'm starting to think they are right. You might not know it, but I've grown very fond of you and your family Bulma. Distractingly so. I have other duties, other focuses, and I'm afraid I let them slide somewhat.'

Bulma stared at him. She was getting quite worried about where this was going.

'There are other universes, other planets, other people that I know need my attention, but I can't drag it away from my friends enough. And it only feels natural to me to want to look out for those that I know personally…but it's not seemly behaviour for a Supreme Kai. I've lost my objectivity, if I ever had it to begin with. I'm failing in my duty.'

'I'm…flattered that you consider us friends,' she said. She'd almost said surprised rather than flattered, but decided at the last second it sounded too rude.

'Well, in trying to do right by my friends and by my duties, I have done neither well,' he said. 'I'm not surprised you're shocked. I did try to usher you both into the Next Dimension after all. So that's why I decided to put an end to this fence-walking. I think I shall abdicate before I am asked to step down.'

'Is that what you needed my advice for? It sounds like you've already made your decision.'

'No,' he said, and his cheeks pinkened slightly. 'There's something else.' He paused for a while, looking out the window before he continued, keeping his eyes carefully averted from Bulma. 'I lost my objectivity. I'm no longer impartial. And what finally convinced me was when I realised I was becoming particularly partial to Eighteen.'

Bulma gasped and had to stifle a laugh behind her hand. Kibito Kai glanced over at her, offended. He looked pained.

'I'm not laughing because it's funny,' she said, though actually it was a little. 'I'm just very surprised. What you mean by "partial" exactly?'

'The other Supreme Kai were very sceptical when I convinced them to trial Eighteen in the Time Patrol, as I was at first, to be truthful,' he said, staring out the window again. 'She completed the assignment today, clipped some universes, but returned with some new pairs of shoes and bottles of nail polish and other cosmetic supplies that she liberated from the doomed universes.' He smiled at the recollection, and Bulma smiled too, both at Eighteen's pragmatism and at the soft look on Kibito Kai's face. Who would have thought?

'What's wrong with that?' said Bulma.

'One could argue, not much. It's a victimless crime. I was inclined to look past it, but the other Kai felt that it showed a streak of corruption and selfishness. They argued that if she were willing to do that in her first jump when she was being observed, she would take much greater liberties later, when on-one was looking. And I realised they were right. Based on her trial she can't be trusted with a time machine. I just found that I didn't care. I wanted her to be on the Time Patrol anyway, just so that I could spend more time with her.'

Dammit, she wished she'd paid more attention to Eighteen and the Kai when he visited. She'd completely missed the clues. She thought the Kai stiff and pompous around Eighteen. Eighteen enjoyed roasting the Kai with her dry wit, and had cajoled and baited him into letting her have a go in the Time Patrol. What exactly had the Kai found enticing? And had Eighteen even meant to entice?

'So, you the two of you are… _friends_ now?' asked Bulma leadingly.

'I don't even know,' he said. 'I know what it feels like to have a friend. That is not what this feels like.'

'What does it feel like then?' she asked, definitely intrigued.

The Kai blushed. 'I can't stop thinking of her. I'm always thinking of excuses to see her and talk to her. I have to resist the urge to touch her. When I think of her I almost feel anxious.' He put a hand on the front of his tunic between over his chest. 'I feel a tightness. A trembling. I feel terrible,' he finished in a whisper.

Bulma pinched her nose and turned red as she tried not to laugh hysterically. 'Oh yeah,' she said, when she was able. 'That sounds like you're in love, Kai.' And it sounded like he had it bad.

He nodded his head and took a steadying breath, as if a doctor was confirming a very grim diagnosis. 'I thought it might be, but how? I've seen countless billions of couples fall in love, but I'm a Kaioshin. I've never done it myself. I didn't even think I was able to.'

'And does Eighteen feel the same way?'

His frown deepened. 'I do not know. I had hoped that you might know more.' He looked hopefully at her.

'Don't ask _me_ ,' she said. 'Has she given no indication?'

'She kissed me after I told her I'd gotten the other Kai to agree to this trial. I think she was just teasing me. I'm not sure.'

Bulma's mouth popped open with astonishment. She felt that it was quite likely Eighteen had just been playing with the Kai, cruelly, if she suspected the Kai's feelings for her. But then again, who knew? She decided to question Eighteen about it.

'I think it is all moot anyway,' he said. 'I believe Trunks has some prior claim on her.'

' _What_?' choked Bulma. 'Trunks! My Trunks?'

'I could be wrong,' said the Kai. He looked very upset. 'I'm completely lost. Bulma, I don't know what to do at all!'

Bulma didn't know what to do either. 'Trunks and Eighteen, I can't believe _that_!' She looked at the distraught purple skinned man, who no longer looked remotely godly, just handsome and innocent and confused. 'We'll get to the bottom of this. When are you stepping down as Supreme Kai? Are you sure it's worth it if she doesn't feel the same way?'

'I have to step down either way. I'm compromised. I'll do it today. I'm sure if I leave it any longer the other Supremes will force me out.'

'Will you lose your powers if you're no longer a Supreme Kai?'

'A few of them. The immortality is the scariest thing to lose. If I stay in the Next World I won't age, but if I live here in this dimension I'll age just like any mortal, and die one day.'

'Then why don't you stay in the Next World?'

'Maybe I will,' he said sadly. 'But I don't feel much connection there outside the Planet of the Kais. I could stay there and live like the Grand Old Kai, but I don't _want_ to stay there. I've been staring out at this dimension all my life…I want to join the life I've watched from afar.'

Bulma hardly knew what to say. Immortality was not anything she'd ever had to consider giving up. In some decades she'd be dead and gone, with her children and hopefully their children the only things she left behind.

'Wait a minute,' she said. 'How are Kaioshin born?'

Kibito Kai looked at her like she had asked something very obvious. 'They begin as seeds and ripen in the fruit of the Kaiju Trees on the Planet of the Kais until they are needed, and they are awoken to service.'

'I'm not sure that this is going to work out between you and Eighteen then,' she told him regretfully.

'What do you mean?'

'If you ever manage to get her there, you might leave her a little disappointed in the bedroom department.'

'If you're asking if I'm _equipped_ ' he blushed the colour of a raspberry, 'I am.'

'Oh. Sorry.'

'Though I thought all the bits were just for show until recently.'

' _Oh_ ,' she said, covering her mouth again, covering both her own blush and the mirth that was threatening to break free. 'And what happened recently?'

'Recently? Eighteen…'

'All in working order is it?'

'How should I know?' he snapped at her, still blushing. 'I've not exactly had any opportunity for extensive testing.'

'I'm sorry! I'm sorry Kai!' she said, unable to stop her laughing. When she caught her breath she got out of her chair and patted him on the shoulder. 'I can't imagine what you're going through.'

'I thought you said it wasn't funny,' he said dully.

'It's not, I swear,' she said, calming down. 'It's terrible that you have to leave all that you've ever known behind. It must be disconcerting to discover a whole new side of yourself that you never knew existed. But you will get used to it. You will find the way forward.'

He closed his eyes and sighed. 'Perhaps at last I can start being a true friend to you,' he said. 'I miss the Bulma who worked with the Time Patrol. She gave me a lot of insight on what it's like to be a mortal being. I always held back from being her friend completely because I was a Supreme Kai, but if you let me I'd like to be your friend.'

'I'd like that,' she said, suddenly knowing that he needed to hear that someone was looking out for him. How old was he? Thousands of years old? Millions? Suddenly now he didn't seem much older than her Trunks. 'Come to dinner' Bulma commanded. 'It will be the first meal of your new life. You do eat, don't you?'

'Oh, yes. We eat the berries and fruits that grow on the Planet of the Kai.'

'Well, we're not having Kai-Planet fruits and berries for dinner tonight, we're having roast venison and vegetables. Let's see if you're equipped for that at least.'

He smiled tremulously. 'Thank you, Bulma.' He got to his feet and she followed him back out to the door.

'I will bring Eighteen home with me later,' he said. 'I'm sure she won't be very pleased when they tell her they don't want her.'

'I'm sure she won't either. I'll guess you'll _both_ be here for dinner then. Bring her home the long way.'

'What do you mean?'

'Show her some amazing sights she's never seen before. I'm sure with your knowledge of the universe you know a lot. Doing something nice for her can only help your case.'

'Oh, I see. Courtship.' He nodded his head, and then frowned. 'I really don't think this is going to work.'

'Not with that attitude it won't. Faint heart never won fair lady.' Bulma would do everything in her power to make it happen. Trunks and Eighteen indeed! There was no way she was having a stropy android for a daughter in law! Much better to palm her off on the Kai.

Kibito Kai gave another weak smile, and she was suddenly moved to give him a quick hug. It was so odd, she thought, how eager she was to forgive and befriend him now that he was laid low.

'Goodbye Bulma.'

'See you soon Kibito Kai.'

* * *

A short while later she was busy simultaneously supervising the twins' eating their lunch, and making bread dough. In honour of Kibito Kai's first day as a free agent she was making bread using her supply of wheat flour. She had a sack of milled flour form last year's wheat harvest; the first decent effort of grow wheat in years. What was even more unusual was that she paid money for it. Since the Androids were no longer a threat the rapid expansion of farming or other projects required that people be extended credit while their efforts were being invested into their fields or hydro dams or whatever it was they were doing. IOU notes became common, and four years on, although bartering was still used at least half the time, the world was well on it's way to becoming a paper economy again. Small scale banks and money lenders could be found running out of stalls in the markets. Bulma sighed, not sure if this was a good thing or not. She wondered if she'd be buying pastries on a credit card before she died.

Mmm, pastry…

A sudden sensation of heat at her back gave her a second's warning before two strong hands slipped around her from behind, stroking up her stomach to grasp a breast each, and pulled her back against a hard chest.

'Oh, my lover,' she said, her hands still in the dough on the bench in front of her. 'You'd better hurry before Vegeta comes back!'

Vegeta growled. 'Think you're being funny, Woman?' he said, pressing his crotch into her backside and rubbing circles over her nipples with his thumbs.

'You have no sense of humour,' she told him with a smile, and leaned back into his ministrations.

'You'd never stray,' he told her, rubbing his face up her neck. 'I'd smell another man on you a mile away.' Suddenly he froze and then pulled away from her, spinning her on the spot to face him.

'Kibito Kai?' he shouted, incredulous.

'What about him?' she said, rattled.

'Why can I smell him on you?'

Bulma laughed when she realised the unfortunate connection he'd made in his mind, but he looked like he was going to have an apoplexy when she did.

'Calm down!' she scolded. 'He was here before. He was quite upset, I gave him a hug and some sympathy. God, Vegeta, _as if!_ '

He did calm, but continued to look grumpy. 'Since when are you so friendly with him?'

'Since today. He needs friends right now. It turns out he considers _us_ his friends.'

'Huh. What is the Earth saying? With friends like these, who needs enemies?'

She frowned, wondering how to tell him.

'He couldn't really be a friend before because he was trying to be a Supreme Kai. And he couldn't really be a Supreme Kai because he wanted to be friends. But by the end of this day, he won't be a Supreme Kai anymore.'

Vegeta grunted with surprise. 'Why not?'

'He's stepping down before he gets kicked out of the board room.'

'Why?'

'Because amongst other things…he's in love with Eighteen.'

Vegeta's face went comically slack, and then he opened his mouth, guffaws of laughter already coming out as he gasped 'Eighteen! _In love_ with Eighteen?' Bulma tried to remain serious but couldn't, giving in to her laughter all over again. They both laughed harder and harder, feeding off the mirth of the other.

'That – that bloodless bastard!' he choked out. 'I wouldn't have thought he knew what to do with a woman!'

'He doesn't really,' she told him, gasping. 'But he told me he's got a…' She laughed so hard she almost couldn't get the words out. 'Got a _full set of equipment!_ But he, he hasn't had a chance to test if it's _working yet!_ '

Vegeta roared with laughter, and laughed so hard that he subsided into silent shaking, falling to his knees with it. The two kids came running over from where they'd been stuffing bits of biscuit in the gaps between the floorboards to see what was going on.

'What's wrong with Daddy?' said Bonnie, her little face upset.

'He's laughing,' said Bardock, full of puzzlement.

Bulma nodded her head, still laughing too hard to talk while Vegeta rolled around on the kitchen floor. He held his hands out, and she automatically grabbed hold of him with her floury hands to pull him back up, but instead he pulled her down on top of him. The kids began to chuckle, then decided that they wanted a slice of this pie, and piled on top of their parents.

'Oh my word, Woman, I don't think I've ever heard a funnier joke,' Vegeta said eventually.

'Is this a good time to tell you that I told him he could stay with us a while?'

He rumbled in annoyance, but then continued laughing. 'What the hell. It might be worth it just to see him make a play for the robot. It'll take the heat off Trunks at least.'

'Hmm, yes,' she said, unable to resist kissing him while they were entangled on the floor. Bardock's knees were digging into her lower back quite uncomfortably though. 'Both Kibito Kai and Eighteen are coming round for dinner tonight,' she told him. 'Maybe we'll get to see love at work,' she said, giggling again.

'Oh. Trunks will be here too. He's already home.'

She laughed again, anticipating the potential emotional carnage at the dinner table.

'Do you think The Kai has a chance with her? She's been after Trunks quite doggedly.'

Vegeta grinned. 'Oh, I give him more than a fighting chance. As long as he can figure out how to put his _equipment_ to work with her.'

This set Bulma off again. Bonnie reached out a hand and grabbed her cheek.

'Daddy's funny,' she said, laughing at the joke she didn't understand.

Bulma felt tears leaking out the corners of her eyes; not just tears of laughter, but tears of happiness and gratitude towards the winds of fate that brought Vegeta back to her. How happy was she? Tangled on the floor with the love of her life and two darling windfall children. By rights she should be a lonely menopausal spinster by now. Instead, she'd never been happier. She felt like she'd had two lives, and now that she was living her second one she could look back and admit that the fifteen years between the two lives had been her time in Hell.

'I love you Vegeta.'

'As you should Woman.'

* * *

_Author's Note: The End. And it's been quite a journey. I have enjoyed writing and posting this fic far more than I thought I would. If you laughed and cried, and got confused and worried as the story went along, I was right there with you. I love Vegeta and Bulma even more now that I did when I started, andI have a new appreciation for all the minor characters too._

_If you haven't checked out my profile for a while you might not have noticed that I've begun another story called Never Ever Land. It's another AU, thought quite different to this one._

_If you'd like to ask questions, please login and leave a review, or PM me (reviews rock though). If you don't have a account you really should - you're missing out on a lot of useful features without one. Believe me, I did without for the longest time, and when I finally made my account, reading and following fan fiction became so much easier. But if you still don't want an account, but really want to ask a question or chin wag about the story feel free to email me. My email address is dragonbabezee at aol dot com. I can't reply to questions asked in anonymous guest reviews._

_Before you all ask if Eighteen ends up with Trunks or Kibito Kai...I don't know. I'll leave it to you to imagine. It's outside the scope of my story._

_And now for the long, waffly indulgence! I wrote this in a PM to Smalsa. She thought that other readers might be interested. Don't feel you have to read it, but if you're interested in how I wrote this thing, read on. I'll just add this. My initial inspiration for this story was watching some clips of Mirai Bulma again, and how realising how sad and dark her life had been, and then watching some bits of DBGT and realizing that I freaking love Vegeta in leather and jeans._

WAFFLE:

I haven't had anyone to really talk to about this. I couldn't even talk to the readers at the time I was writing it without giving up spoilers. It's bursting out of me now.

Heh, I didn't know that my story was going to be so angsty and full of heartbreak for Bulma and Vegeta when I started writing it. It was going to be shorter and simpler. I just wanted Mirai Bulma to meet post-Buu or post-GT Vegeta and see what she was missing out on. But then I wanted her to have a happy ending. And then I was like, 'What the heck would Vegeta be doing there anyway?' So I made him lost in time, trying to get home. And then I realised that I had immediately set up a conflict of interest that made my heart wring for both of them at the same time as I rubbed my hands together in glee at the torture I was about to inflict. I wondered what and who Vegeta might have encountered over the years and I remembered that in the DBZ games there is a character called Time Patrol Trunks who gives out missions, and hardly anything is known about him. Then I wondered why a Trunks would be patrolling time and that's where both Time Patrol Trunks's first encounter with Bulma sprang from, and at the same time the scene with Vegeta punching Kibito Kai and telling him he was going to kill him, and I knew I had a much longer story on my hands, but also one with more motivation. The Kaioshin were an obvious answer to the question 'Who does the Time Patrol work for and why do they do what they do?' The more complicated multiverse stuff all sprang from there, and making Vegeta and Bulma fugitives upped the pressure on them.

The pregnancy came from a scene I imagined where Vegeta drops the whisky bottle accidentally on purpose and Bulma cries about it. I don't know why that occurred to me, or why I wanted to put it in the story, so I had to ask 'Why would Vegeta do that?' and realised it must be because she was pregnant (at 49?!). Luckily I was writing the Kaioshin scene at that point, so I had him make Bulma younger and plant the seed of the idea. So cruel. And things flowed from there.

Things kept turning up. Goku turned up in my head and wouldn't go away, and so I ended up with that fight scene which actually became essential to the story arc. I had no idea that Oolong would show up till I saw him come down the steps into the house. I had no idea that Korin would return after the funeral to be first a convenient place for Vegeta get food and board, and then be an important character. I had no idea that Sixteen would be show up again after Vegeta freed him, nor that I was going to need Eighteen and Sixteen to get Bulma and the time machine safely to the finishing line. When Vegeta thinks to himself that it was lucky he tamed Eighteen because it turned out they really needed her help, that was me realising that I really needed her, and if I hadn't decided I liked her so much and plucked her up for the ride, I wouldn't have had her around to call upon.

When Time Patrol Trunks turned up the second time and ate the cake I was beginning to wonder where this Trunks had originated from and why he was helping Vegeta. I always had it in my mind that he would be the guardian angel that delivered the shining solution - the co-ordinates for Vegeta's originating universe- but I had no reason for him to do it, other than the kindness of his heart. I pondered whether he might actually be this Bulma's son. I was trying to decide if that would work, and thinking it maybe would, but literally as I was writing that part where Korin says 'But these two are not your actual parents' I wrote 'Trunks's eyes flitted over Bulma and lingered on Vegeta a moment' and I thought, hold on, WHAT? What did I just write? Trunks is Vegeta's son? WTF? How does that work? I didn't know whether to erase it or not. I'd already burned through a few endings to the story in my mind as the story evolved, and I knew that this would complicate things immensely, change the ending and possibly cause me a massive headache. Given that I was already posting chapters as I went by that point, I knew that if I screwed up my ending and couldn't make it work I was in trouble, but I loved this exciting twist. It was a surprise for me too! You guys had to wait until the end of chapter 35 for the surprise, but I had it at the lunch party scene.

I was right about the headache though. My first resolution I realised didn't actually work and I had a sleepless night trying to figure out how Vegeta could ever stay with Bulma. I thought I had a solution eventually, but then as I was writing ch 35 and 36 (Home Again and Prodigal Father) I realised again that it DIDN'T WORK! Not only that but I had to do some pretty darning on Prodigal Father to patch up some big plot holes (posting as you write is not the way to come up with this stuff), and I came up with a new solution. However, ha ha! When I was writing Chapter 41, I kid you not, as Time Patrol Bulma was explaining to Vegeta how he was wrong and he had screwed up I realised 'Fuck! *I'm* wrong! *I've* screwed up!' My ending broke my own rules of time travel. Another sleepless night spent wondering how I could get Vegeta out of this hole, and I came up with something else. For a day or so I thought I might actually have a sad ending on my hands. Either that or end the story with a massive plot hole. Incredibly as I wrote chapter 42 it happened again - I had to throw out and rewrite half the chapter because I realised even this didn't quite work. Man, I was as thrilled and relieved as you guys when it all worked out. What a freaking ride!

_PS, If you've read this far, you'll probably be the type of person who is interesting in joining the We're Just Saiyan community on Google+. It's an incredibly active community dedicated to readers and writers of BV fan fiction. Go there and check it out! maymayB and Mallie-3 who put it together create podcasts with guest authors and sometimes readers, and they're hilarious and very interesting. The community is very friendly too, and loves new members._

 


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